The Sisters of Athernia                       by: RJMcD                        Copyright 2000

 

Part 2b.

 

The next four days were busy for me.

The day after our first get together and shopping excursion the four of us had a conference call and Jack told us all about riding Sam's organ, cowgirl style. I wanted to tell him that we didn't want to hear about it, but we naturally ended up asking for more details and even giving advice!

Poor Jack! He was forced to sound simply thrilled about the whole thing, and more than happy to describe every moment of the sex act he had performed with Sam.

I'd always heard that girls were blunter than guys when talking about sex among themselves, and if we were any example it was true. Kevin, who had been the most modest among us four guys, turned out to be the most talkative and turned into our cowgirl position guru! Right there on the phone, in front of all of us, he gave Jack instructions on squeezing his vagina while riding Sam's dick!

We did finally switch the subject and talked about shopping for a while. Quite a while!

Naturally our husbands were the focus of everything we said. Talking about clothes meant talking about what clothes our husbands liked to see us wear. Talking about food meant talking about what our husbands liked to eat.

Then Rick brought up the gift book we'd all received from Betsy's Books and Candles. He and Kevin had already read the whole book! Of course they were made to rave about it! Jack and I had only gotten as far as the second chapter and they felt obliged to fill us in on the rest.

It was ironic that voluntary acceptance of our new roles was, by definition, behavior that wasn't controlled by the device, but they made us involuntarily praise and encourage that behavior. It was as contradictory as being encouraged to become part of "the family" at Betsy's Books and Candles when the store was operated by a machine!

We all wanted to go shopping again, real soon, and promised each other we'd ask our "hubbys" when we could go, then let each other know.

We spent over two hours yakking on the phone and when I finally hung up my ear was sore!

There was no free speech on the telephone, so I never really got to find out how the others were holding up. I couldn't go by what they said – I knew what I was made to say was a lie! – and there was simply no way of telling. We needed another session of free speech, and I feared we wouldn't get one for six more days. That's when our next weekly gathering was scheduled. The TV lady was sure to appear, and that was usually followed by free speech. It was a long wait.

At times I'd get a little weirded out by hearing Jack, Kevin, and Rick talking on the phone, yet I couldn't stop myself from calling them, or squealing in delight when they called me.

In a way I was glad we didn't have free speech during those times. It probably would have been worse! We just would have talked about how horrible it was to have been changed into girls and be having sex with other guys. And about how powerless we were to change our lives and bodies back to what they were.

In the meantime I was busy with my life.

I found myself experimenting with make-up, spending hours trying different combinations and products. I did the same with the clothes that I had.

Both the make-up and clothing shortages were a subtle move on the part of the device, I believed. I quickly got tired of the limited amount of stuff I had and actually made up lists of make-up and clothes that I wanted to buy! Girl's clothes! New bras! More dresses! Eye shadow! I honestly wanted to buy more! I justified it by saying I was bored with what I had, but the real bottom line was that I was looking forward to shopping for more female stuff!

The same was true with the food. The meals that came out of the food synthesizer were designed to appeal to Peter, but after all, I had to eat them, too. So I pushed the lit "A" button, hoping it stood for Automatic. It went out, and a menu appeared at the same time the "Next" button lit up.

The menu went on forever, page after page, and I went through it and chose the things I liked. Some gave me the message "Not Liked by Your Husband" and refused to light up, but there were an almost infinite number of choices so it was relatively easy to find something we both liked. There were all kinds of foods we could enjoy together.

What a clever homemaker I was turning out to be!

The next day Kevin called and said he'd been invited to go shopping by one of the girls that had been with Debbie, and that the girl's husband was gong to pick him up. I think he was indirectly letting me know he wasn't deserting the three of us, just that it was another chance to get out of the house.

I called Peter at the lab and asked him if it was alright to ask Rick and Jack to go shopping and ask if he would drive us. He said sure, and I called both the guys.

Rick, it turned out, had been trying to get through to me but my phone had been busy. He, too, had been asked to go shopping by one of the other girls and wanted to know if Jack and I wanted to go along. There were already four in their group and six seemed like way too much. He agreed and said he'd show me what he got, and probably see me there.

When Peter picked us up he said I'd better buy quite a bit because tomorrow night we were going to John and Marilyn Fretlow's for dinner, and the night after that we were hosting Stuart and Ann Franklin at our house!

I had no clue what to wear! Were these dinners formal or informal?! Should we bring wine or anything?! How long did they last?! How would I know what to serve when the Franklins came to our house?!

Peter laughed, "Don't worry about it, honey. Ask the other girls. They'll tell you all you need to know. There must be some books about all that stuff, too. I'm sure you'll look perfect, and I'll be proud of you!"

"Oh, I don't know the first thing about it!" I groaned.

"It'll be fine, Diana. You'll see," he said. "And by the way, pick up a bathing suit, too. I want us to start using the pool together – and swimming's good for the figure."

Jack, who had been told by Sam that they had similar dinner obligations in the next three days, was just as eager to add to his wardrobe. In the end we both had to have almost everything delivered, via the cabinet, because it was far too much to carry.

Six bras, eight pair of panties, three garter belts, a set of garters, seven pair of hose, one pair of panty hose, five nighties, five dresses, six pairs of shoes, two blouses and a skirt! Oh, and a hot pink bikini!

That was just me. Jack bought even more!

Part of the time I felt like an idiot. What the hell was I doing buying bras?! Part of the time I rationalized that I needed clothes and the only kind that made any sense (or were available to me!) were what fit my new girlish body. But most of the time Jack and I just giggled and enthusiastically picked out one thing after another.

The most frequent phrases we used were "Do you think Peter will like me in this?" and "Do you think Sam will like me in this?"

Peter had been right when he said I needed more clothes. The wardrobe they had provided me was small – just enough to get me through a few days. If we were going to have more couples over for dinner then I'd need some more dinner clothes, not to speak of daily clothes and things to wear on days when Peter wasn't needed at the lab (he assured me that was most of the time, and only different now because of a special project), and of course nightgowns and lingerie. I even needed to shop for clothes to go shopping in!

It appeared that shopping was going to be a major part of my life. With over twenty stores and only thirty girls on the island, they wasn't much possibility of having to stand in line, but it would be lonely if I didn't take someone with me.

Shopping, I saw, was very useful to the feminization process. It taught us to seriously think about what our husband's would like to see us in, and then allowed us to get what pleased them. It also put the four of us into the flow of the female half of the population. We talked with girls while we shopped, and we learned girl stuff by observation and osmosis.

Shopping also squarely placed us in the "girl" segment of the community.

The books in the bookstore were all propaganda – at least that's the way I thought of them. We were supposed to read the books and fill our minds with female knowledge so we would be able to apply make-up and do our hair and please our husbands in every way – all without "help" from the rings. I knew we'd be exchanging books and talking about them, too.

It also got the four of us new "girls" used to seeing our buddies as girls.

And shopping itself was a girl thing. If guys needed something they went out and bought it. Girls shopped.

Shopping also let us move freely outside of our homes, without men around, so we would know that we were never truly free.

And it gave us the opportunity to arrange dinners with other couples, emphasizing the fact that girls were simply part of a duo and not independent entities.

Shopping gave me something to talk about – with Peter, and with my buddies. We had no input on sports teams, cars, business, careers, or anything else. None of those existed for us on the island, so how could we talk about them – not that we would have been allowed to anyway!

So we would shop, and then talk about what we'd bought, and then we would wear it, and show it off to our husbands and friends. And then we would shop some more.

Finally, shopping would show us something that was very important at this time in our feminization – that previously transformed guys had voluntarily accepted total femininity.

Before both dinner parties Peter presented me with surprise gifts of jewelry. There was no jewelry store in the women's section of shops, so apparently all the new jewelry we would own would be received as gifts from our husbands.

The dinners themselves did come off without a hitch, just as Peter had said they would. John Fretlow was a landscape designer and a good part of the village and park on Athernia was built from his ideas. Marilyn, his wife, was a striking redhead. She never said what she had been before being transformed into a girl. Big surprise.

The food was good, the conversation was good – even though most it was between Peter and John while "us girls" looked on. Peter, the polite guest, said very little about his own work at the lab. Instead he asked questions about what John was doing and the plans he had to redesign an area they called McDonald Beach, on the other side of the island.

We females ate like birds, as women do on dates.

After dinner Marilyn and I cleared the table and she showed me their house. I had gone to dinner with the idea of getting her alone and seeing if I could talk to her in a free speech way, but nothing but girl talk came out of my mouth. She referred once or twice to the fact that I was "new to the island", but without giving it any significance.

The dinner with the Franklins went just as smoothly. Needless to say, I'd never planned a dinner party in my life, and the role of hostess was as foreign as Pluto to me. But I used the previous night's dinner as an example, put the synthesizer back on automatic, and let the controller tell me what to do. It was easy. About the only difference was that this time Stuart Franklin played the polite guest and let Peter talk about his work during most of dinner.

I was hoping to learn something about the big project Peter was working on, but instead he talked about the history of the cabinets and how a group of the scientists, he among them, had discovered that the device could make mini-clones of part of itself; the part that placed and positioned the things it had created. From that they had created the cabinets, which were the island's delivery system, and the mail tables, which handled letters.

After dinner the men went outside for cigars. Ann Franklin and I cleared the table, dropped everything in the chute, and then talked in the front room. I tried to make strong eye contact with her, to let her know that I was inside, behind Diana's pretty face, but got zip of a reaction.

Both evenings the women had hung on their husbands, and were instantly attentive to their smallest needs. But then, that's the way I behaved, too!

Both of them were also beautiful, and dressed in provocative and fairly revealing dresses. And so was I!

Everyone appeared to have a great time. As did I!

Relating stories about our dinner parties was a prime topic of the long and frequent phone conversations I had with the other guys. Mostly we talked about what we wore, and what the other women wore, and how beautiful they were. We talked about what was served, and how it was served. We talked about how they had decorated their homes. We mentioned, briefly, how good looking and charming the other women's husbands were.

After the first dinner I found myself going to the writing desk and sitting down, smoothing my dress under me and crossing my legs at the knees. I took out one of the personalized Thank You notes with the silver "Thank You" printed on the outside of the card. In the now familiar feminine handwriting that I was coming to recognize as mine I addressed a note to John and Marilyn Fretlow, thanking them for such a delightful evening.

My hands folded the card, placed it in the envelope and my tongue sealed the edge. I wrote "Mr. & Mrs. John Fretlow" on the front of the envelope and took it to the small table by the front door. That was the island’s magical postal system. Sometime when I wasn’t looking it would disappear and would show up on an identical table in the Fretlow’s home.

Sure enough, an hour later, when I finished straightening up the bedroom and came back into the front room, I saw that my note was gone.

The day after the second dinner there was an envelope addressed to "Mr. & Mrs. Peter Miller" on the table. It was a thank you note from the Franklins. Etiquette seemed to be a big deal on Athernia. The handwriting was ultra-feminine and as neat as a pin. But then, so was mine. And I now dotted my i's with little circles! Except when I wrote love notes to Peter. Then I used hearts!

Once I got the bathing suit I started swimming once a day. I was practically nude in the tiny thing, but no one was around, and the back yard was surrounded by a high wood fence. Peter did come home early one day and we swam together – and then had a nooner!

The sex continued to be the worst part of each twenty-four hours. I just could not get used to having a naked man, with an erection, being on top of me. The pleasure that my body felt was something of a distraction once things got going. It was the early parts that were so difficult. They started when Peter walked in the door.

I was supposed to jump up, no matter what I was doing or where in the house I was, and run to great him. I was supposed to be very happy to see him, as if he was the light of my life. I was supposed to throw my arms around him and kiss and hug him, and tell him how much I missed him.

I didn't want to do it!

Life was so much easier when I was alone. Yes, I was still a girl doing girl things, but I was learning to handle that. Being intimate with another guy was a whole different story!

From the moment he walked in the door I found myself doing everything for him. If he was tired I'd draw a hot bath and then massage his shoulders while he soaked. If he wasn't tired I'd listen to him tell me about his day.

I always kept my eye on him. If it looked like he might want the salt during dinner I gave it to him even before he asked.

I was always feeling him, touching him, being close to him. We kissed a lot. We were constantly close.

Peter liked to dance, so some evenings I'd put on the music he liked and we'd dance around the front room and dining room. Following, instead of leading, seemed dangerously natural to me. For every second I would have to be intensely aware of him so I'd move correctly when he signaled a turn or other change. It was always slow dancing and I would be pressed snugly against his muscular body, very aware of my breasts. His hands would caress my back, and sometimes my bottom!

And there was sex! Every night, at least once and not infrequently, twice! The earliest part quickly developed into a routine, so that taking a bath in the evening was Pavlovian. I'd get mildly aroused by it! I'd put on the sexiest nighty imaginable and enter the bedroom where Mr. Erection was waiting!

We would make out passionately. Peter was a nice looking guy, but he was still a guy! I was french kissing another guy! I was caressing the naked chest of another guy! I was fondling another guy's balls! I was running my soft, slim fingers over another guy's cock! I was getting Peter hard! I was caressing his cock, running my thumb over the sensitive head! I was doing my best to get another guy so hot that he couldn't resist me!

And it worked! Every time!

At a certain point my kissing and sexual caresses became so effective that he would push me on to my back.

I spread my legs and reached for his now throbbing penis. I would grab it and aim it directly at my tight, wet vagina!

My vagina! Mine! I had a goddamn vagina!

Peter would slide his cock into me and start fucking. It wasn't far into the act that my body, and the pleasure sensing portion of my brain, combined to pull me into the sex. The shock of what was happening to me would recede and the pleasure would dominate.

And I'd go off when he came inside me!

It was always perfectly arranged that we'd come together. That is, when he came, I came. There was never a chance that I would come on my own.

I would tell him how wonderful he was, and how much I loved him, and how great he was in bed! I would tell him how much I loved his wonderful penis!

Some nights we would make out for a while after sex and then he'd lay back and go to sleep. Other nights he'd start to get aroused again and I knew I'd be in for another round of mingling public hairs!

I didn't think I'd ever get used to it. It really filled me with terror! Each night, after dinner, was the time that I vowed to find a way off Athernia!

Some of the other things – well, day by day I was getting used to some of them. Wearing bras, panties, nylons and dresses wasn't really all that bad anymore. I'd always thought that stuff was very sexy. I never expected to be wearing it, of course, but it was kind of a turn on in a way. I think I found myself sexy. I mean, I could dress this gorgeous young body any way I wanted as long as Peter liked the result. It was like dressing and undressing the girl of my dreams, and at the same time being her! It was weird, but when I put on nylons and high heels and nothing else, then looked at myself in the full-length mirror, I got aroused!

And after a few days even putting on make-up wasn't so tough. It was sort of creative – kind of artistic, in a way. I still hated to wear lipstick for some reason, but I realized I would have looked pretty funny all made up without lipstick on.

Actually, shopping wasn't too bad, either. Trying on stuff and buying stuff and seeing what my buddies picked up.. It was almost fun sometimes. But sometimes I'd still inwardly cringe when one of them came out of a dressing room to model a dress.

I remember that I used to have a problem understanding how girls could spend so much time shopping and seem to have so much fun doing it. But I was beginning to understand.

Outside of the sex, the thing that bothered me the most was that I couldn't say or do the things I wanted. I just didn't like being controlled! Never had, never would!

I read the book on voluntary behavior. If I did the things they wanted me to do, the controller would back off. I could say or do what I wanted, as long as what I wanted to say and do was what they wanted me to say and do!

I got to learn when I was going into a period of free choice or voluntary behavior or whatever it was. There was a little tell tale warmth that came over me. Very subtle, but I began to recognize it.

It would always happen before I chose dinner. I felt it sometimes when I was putting on make-up, and sometimes while I was shopping. At times it came when I wasn't doing anything in particular.

I felt it go away, too. One afternoon I'd gone swimming and then decided to lay out in the sun and work on a tan. Why not? I sure had a whole lot of skin showing in the little pink bikini! Then I felt the warmth and headed indoors instead. Apparently Peter didn't favor tanned skin and I had made a choice that wouldn't have met with his approval.

Peter was quickly turning into the center of my life.

I talked to my friends on the phone every day now, but all our conversations really centered around our husbands rather than ourselves. We did some shopping together, and ran into each other when we went shopping with other girls, but it wasn't the same. We had a few snatches of free speech while shopping, but they were short and none of the guys really wanted to talk too much about their lives now.

My life experiences were now the things I experienced with Peter. I couldn't talk with either him or my buddies about my pre-female, pre-Athernian life, so I talked about what had happened since the wedding.

The wedding. That still astounded me when I thought about it, or when I happened to glance at our wedding pictures around the house. I had gotten married to a guy!

The goal now was to get un-married, as fast as I could. The problem was how to do that. The only answer I could come up with was one I didn't like : voluntary behavior.

Oh, not sincere voluntary behavior. I would be faking it. But I would do it so the controller would ease off. Then I could make my move. If I didn't appear to be openly accepting my role as a sister of Athernia they would keep making me do what they wanted me to do, anyway. I just had to see if I could force myself to do the same things without the device being activated.

Once I decided I had to do it I wanted to start right away. The sooner I started behaving like a submissive girl, the sooner I could stop being a submissive girl!

It was just two days until the scheduled second weekly meeting with the guys. I would have to work out a way to deal with that. I didn't want to mislead them into thinking I'd given up, for fear it would weaken their own resolve to keep resisting. But I still had to continue my phony acceptance of my girlhood for the controller to sense. How could I do both?

Peter came home at lunch. He appeared a little nervous.

"Mr. Lawson wants to see you," he said.

I froze. "W-what for?"

"He said there was nothing to worry about, he just wanted to talk to you," Peter said. "Apparently he's been thinking about talking to one of the four of you, and he chose you. He didn't say too much about it, but he sort of implied he just wanted to see how you were doing."

"I..Well – Do I look okay?"

He smiled. "You look beautiful, as always. Get your purse and let's go!"

I got my purse from the coffee table. My mind was spinning. I'd just made my plan and suddenly Mr. Lawson wants to see me? Could he know?! If he did, if he could, then I was not only in trouble but any thought of escape was now impossible.

Peter drove at the casual Athenian speed but it only took a couple minutes to arrive at the main building, the one they called The Lab. He parked right in front. With so few people on the island, and since only the men appeared to have cars, parking was hardly a problem. There weren't even any stop signs at the few intersections that existed.

Though Peter opened the car door for me, and the door to the building, he stopped in the lobby.

"He asked to see you alone, upstairs in the meeting room," Peter said. "I'll wait for you down here."

I gave him a worried look.

He smiled reassuringly. "There's no problem, honey. He said he just wants to have a little talk. He specifically said there's nothing wrong."

I nodded.

Peter kissed me, holding me tight, in a supportive manner.

I walked upstairs, down the hall and to the closed door of the conference room where the four of us had been taken when we first arrived on the island. The building and hall may have looked the same, but we sure looked different!

The door opened just as I was getting ready to knock. Mr. Lawson, Mayor of Athernia and senior scientist in the original pack of shipwrecked survivors, stood there, dressed in a heather colored pair of slacks, brown shirt and light-weight dark brown sports jacket that looked like tweed.

"Hello, Diana. It’s nice to see you, and I must say you look very pretty today," he said as he stood back to let me enter.

"Thank you, Mr. Lawson," I said. I glanced around quickly and was surprised to see that no one else was in the room.

I sat down in the plush chair that he pulled out for me and crossed my legs, letting my skirt ride up my thighs and reveal a bit of stocking.

Mr. Lawson looked at me and I suddenly felt a momentary warmth in my body and knew I was entering a time of free speech. Something in the intensity of the warmth told me this was a higher quality free speech than I'd ever felt before. I was startled and afraid to say anything, but I did notice that he had a small object in his left hand, something like a mini TV clicker.

"There’s nothing to be nervous about, Diana," Lawson said soothingly. "This is just a short interview to find out how you’re doing. A sort of progress report that you really can’t give anyone but me. We’ve made some refinements in the process since our last ship wrecked individuals landed on our shores and we just want to make sure everything is working as it should." He smiled reassuringly and continued. "This is the only time you’ll ever have free speech with a man, and it’s only possible with me. The other men can’t experience it."

False! I thought. My buddies are men. We may not look or act like it but we are, and we have free speech. But free speech with Mr. Lawson? I couldn’t see anything but danger there and remained silent.

"I know this initial period of adjustment has been somewhat difficult for you and your friends, and if there had been some other way – But there wasn’t, and we accepted that. You should, too."

He paused, giving me an opening, but I kept quiet.

"No doubt you have a lot of questions," he said. "Questions that I, of course, will not answer, so don’t bother to make the attempt. You won’t be able to ask them and it will just cause you stress. But I am very aware of the sacrifice you and your friends made to the happiness of our community. I want you to know that I appreciate it. Your arrival and transformation have been very important to us. Six bachelors on an island of happily married young couples was awkward. Their rings exerted more control, and there was tranquility. But not balance. Not perfection. It had been very tough for Peter and the other single men before you and your three friends arrived. Now we have only two remaining bachelors. Still not perfection, but closer."

Lawson paused again, apparently to see if I had any free speech comment to make, but I was still too leery to open my mouth. I didn’t think he had gotten to his main point yet, and I still didn’t fully understand why I was there.

"What you want to ask is how we could put you through this – how we could do this to you. But you know I won’t answer those kinds of questions. Neither will you be permitted to complain about anything, or offend me – Are you curious about anything that I will answer?"

Well, if the device wouldn’t let me protest or plea for our freedom then I could at least take advantage of this to find out something.

I thought for a moment, then asked, "Who is the TV lady?"

"Jill?" he laughed in surprise. "Yes, I suppose I can see how you’d be curious about her. Well, Jill – that’s the name we’ve given her – is a little different from the other women here. Not in appearance. She’s young and beautiful, as you’ve seen. In attitude, though.

"We didn’t want Jill to be any woman on Athernia because all new arrivals would have had very different contact with her than with the other women. Some of the new women might even feel a little hostile toward her. So we took the eyes from one, nose from another, hair from another, shoulders from another and so on. She’s none of the women, but she’s many of them. Physically, she's a composite created for her role.

"As to her attitude...well, we modeled the attitude and voice on one very unusual woman, though we did alter the voice so it would be generic, and we did exaggerate the attitude some. He was part of the cruise ship party, a ship’s employee who had been designated to operate the lifeboat that came ashore here on Athernia. As soon as volunteer acceptance was allowed she caught on right away and enthusiastically jumped in, so to speak. She had excellent taste in clothes, and seemed to already know a lot about hairdressing. We stretched the range of her free choices. She responded wonderfully; faster than the others from the ship. But she really just provided us with the basis for the attitude. Jill, as we call her, doesn’t really exist."

"It sounds sometimes like she’s mocking us," I said.

"Mocking you?" Lawson said with an indulgent smile. He nodded slowly. "Yes I suppose it could. But she’s not. We made her light and cheerful to make it more pleasant for you during your transition and learning process. We give her some amount of freedom of expression in her role as guide to new arrivals. Still, there are strong limits, and she’s really just an extension of the device. We made her extra friendly and, we thought, supportive. Not mocking, but it’s helpful to us to know that she comes across that way. I’ll have one of the techs see if they can improve her sincerity – . Anything else? Surely there are other things you’ve wondered about. I’d be interested to know what they are."

"What I really want to know, I can’t ask," I said boldly.

"No, I suppose not," he said. "Those questions won’t be answered, so the device won’t let you ask them."

"No one ever ages?" I asked.

"No," he said simply. "Nor do we get ill. That applies to anyone on the island."

"Can I get anything I want through the cabinet?"

"Of course not," he said. "But you can get anything you want that will make your husband happier. That’s all you need."

It seemed like I had a real opportunity here, yet my bran was foggy. I was prevented from asking the really useful questions, the answers to which might help us get off the island. The others seemed inconsequential and even Mr. Lawson seemed to be getting a little bored. His answers were sure getting shorter.

"If you can change men into women how did you end up with more men than women? Why not change half of them?"

It was an apparent flaw that I had spotted early but never had an opportunity to explore. As it turned out however Mr. Lawson’s answer revealed that it wasn’t a flaw after all.

"You’ve forgotten," he said. "On your first day here I told you we didn’t understand or perfect the use of the technology until there were thirty-two men on the island. By then, of course, we all knew each other too well, so the vote was to change the next thirty-two strangers who arrived. Actually, it isn’t quite correct to say we didn’t understand the technology. We just hadn’t decided yet to make use of it in this way. That was the main decision at the historic meeting.

"I’ll let you ask one more question," he said. "Something that relates to your current situation."

I thought. There was one question that I thought would be permissible and really wanted to know the answer to. "Will this go on forever?"

"Forever?" The question seemed to take him aback a little, but only a little. "Your questions are surprising. This is valuable research. The future is something we used to discuss quite a lot, but we haven’t talked about it in a long time. You bring back memories with that question." Lawson sat back in his large leather chair and lit his pipe. I couldn’t help noticing how masculine that looked and, just by providing the simple contrast, how feminine it made me feel.

"How can one ever be sure of the future," he finally said. "The creators of this island may one day remember they left it here and come back to shut it down. Or it may have a finite life of its own that we don’t know about and one day just all disappear. We may push a wrong button one day, though we’re very, very cautious. We don’t think any of that is likely, but we honestly don’t know. As much as we’ve studied the technology, and as well as we’ve learned to use a lot of it, there are still devices we don’t fully understand. We continue to work on them but we haven’t made very much progress in the last few years. Certain areas show promise – others, none. It keeps us busy, though, and keeping everyone interested in life and enjoying life are some of our main goals on Athernia. That’s why we created the controller and why you’re...who you are."

He set his pipe in the large crystal ashtray and reached for the clicker.

"Do the men know?" I blurted.

He froze. "I said one more question."

I didn’t say anything.

He looked directly at me for a long minute, then finally smiled. "That was quick. Before I ended the free speech time," he said. "But what a good question – and I can see where it would be troubling you. You’re providing an important service for the welfare of the community so I’ll answer it. Do your husbands know that you used to be males? I suppose that’s what you’re asking."

I winced internally at the past tense. Inside I was still me, still a guy, no matter what they had done to my body and behavior. I knew it, and he knew it. It didn’t matter that every time they made me look in a mirror I saw a drop dead gorgeous twenty-year old blonde, or that every time I walked gracefully across a floor in heels, my hips gently swaying, that I was reminded of how I looked to everyone else. I knew that I was inside, screaming to be let out!

"The answer is that they believe you are who you appear to be, who you, in fact, now are. You’re Diana Lynette Miller. That’s a fact. That is who you are. Peter and the other three did see you four as young men, but they don’t know that now. Their rings, though far less powerful than yours, do control that memory. It wouldn’t work otherwise."

He had used the past tense again and I couldn't say anything about it.

"So they have the memory of four gorgeous women being washed ashore. They believe the device simply made you forever young and free from the threat of illness, and is teaching you to be more feminine than you already were," Lawson continued. "They know only that you admire them, adore them, and love them completely – and that that shows in your every word, gesture and deed, as it truly does. Their rings don’t permit them to question that or even think about it except in limited ways. Their rings do just a few things – taking care of their current bodies, and making sure that they are gentlemen at all times and never experience jealousy, greed, envy or any other emotion that would upset the community. Aside from those simple chores the men’s controllers do almost nothing. So, do they know? The answer is that they know you are beautiful young ladies that love and adore them – and they’re right."

I couldn’t help but glance at Lawson’s left hand and see that even he wore a ring.

He noticed and smiled, "Oh yes, I wear one, too, though I had mine made with even less control than those of the other men. I have to keep this thirty-three year old body that can never get sick. And I did have quite a temper, and I eliminated that. Other than that I have no reason to wear it, frankly, since I’m married to the only woman on the island who was born a woman and don’t need that control. But it would look odd for me not to wear one when everyone else does. We don’t permit disharmony on Athernia."

I felt a sudden warmth in my body that told me free speech had abruptly ended. I hadn’t seen him reach for the clicker but saw now that he had it in his hand.

This time Mr. Lawson stood all the way up and held out his strong, masculine hand. I placed my smooth, dainty fingers in his palm and stood.

"Jill has spoken to you about voluntarily embracing your new life," he said, "and I want to encourage you to listen to her. Encourage your friends, too, Diana. Your situation is still new to you and I suspect that, inside, some or all of you are still wrestling a little with the situation. Trust me, it really is inevitable that all of you will eagerly embrace your new life. It may take you a couple more days, or even a couple weeks for some of you, but it’s definite that it will happen if it hasn’t already."

He smiled, "You’ll find out it can be a very pleasant life once you stop struggling. You and Kathleen seem to have understood more than the other two that making a real effort to embrace your new life will make you so much happier. I hope you’ll be able to talk to Jennifer and Rita about this. Delaying acceptance can only lead to unhappiness. Embracing it is unavoidable and the longer they resist, if in fact they are still resisting, the more uncomfortable they’ll be."

I wanted to tell him to go to hell but I smiled and thanked him for the opportunity to talk. "I really enjoyed it, Mr. Lawson. You’re very charming. You and Karen will have to come to dinner with us one evening. I’m sure Peter would enjoy that."

He smiled back. "We’d be delighted, Diana," he said. "Now I think there’s someone waiting for you downstairs, with a little surprise."

Like a real gentleman the son of a bitch opened the door for me, and like a real lady I let him.

My heels clicking on the way down the hall, and then down the stairs, was a distraction. I was trying to picture Karen Lawson. An absolute babe! Beautiful, about 5’ 6", maybe 115-118 pounds, hardbody, fabulous figure, and hot, 20-22 years old, with gorgeous big brown eyes. The few times I’d seen her the biggest impression I got was how much she hung on her husband, how obvious it was that she absolutely adored him, and that he was her world. In other words, she was just like the rest of us! Karen Lawson had been a guy, no doubt about it, and Mr. Lawson had programmed his own ring to make himself not know that! – WHEW!!!!

I was also trying to think about the interview, or whatever it was. It seemed short for a fact-finding talk. But that it had happened at all told me that they don’t know everything that goes on, and, more important, they don’t know what we’re thinking, or he wouldn’t have bothered letting me ask questions.

He also didn't know, for sure, whether or not each of us was accepting our supposedly inevitable fate. I had no idea how he picked Kevin and me as being more accepting of our circumstances than Jack and Rick!

I also learned that Lawson could personally control the giving and taking of free speech. I wondered what else, if anything, he could turn on and off. Then again, maybe everything else was set in stone so there’d be no temptation to make drastic changes, but turning free speech off and on was the one thing he left himself some measure of control over.

Just by the fact that Lawson wore a ring, no matter how strong it was or wasn’t, meant that every human on the island was under the controller to some extent. The so-called women far more than the men, but still –

I vowed to watch out for more things like this – .if there were any.

Peter was just inside the lobby of the building – and Jack, Kevin and Rick were standing just behind him! All four smiled when they saw me coming and I gave them a playful wiggle of my hips in return.

Peter was dressed in black slacks, an ivory colored golf shirt and a lightweight dark gray sport coat with a thin white weave running through it. Jack, Rick and Kevin all had on summer dresses and sandals. Kevin wore three inch heels, like me, and Jack and Rick had two and a half inch heels. Kevin’s dress was a cute little rose colored number with narrow shoulder straps and a thin belt that he’d pulled tightly around his tiny waist. Rick wore summer white. His dress had thin spaghetti straps that tied at the shoulders and was form-fitted to his firm bosom. Jack’s little peach outfit was a matching blouse and skirt in a light-weight material that clung to his hips. His top was the lowest cut of all but very tasteful.

I rushed up to Peter and threw my arms around his neck.

"You’re just so good to me!" I said and went up on tiptoe to kiss him.

"I thought the four of you might like to get together," he said. He wrapped his strong arms around my slender body and pulled me close, kissing me back with a fervor that surprised me.

When we separated he asked, "Did everything go all right with Mr. Lawson?"

"I had a lovely time," I said with a smile. "He’s a very nice man."

"We couldn’t have done it without him," Peter said.

He reluctantly let me go and I planted a quick, wet one on him before he got away.

"Sam will pick you girls up later," Peter said. "Have a good time."

"I love you, darling," I told him.

"And I love you," he said. "See you later!"

I watched him walk into the building and down a hall, presumably toward what he called "the lab".

"What lovebirds!" Kevin teased.

"Let’s go shopping!" Jack exclaimed and we went through the door and out onto the sidewalk.

Of course I felt totally shamed by the disgusting way I’d been made to behave with Peter! And in front of my buddies, to boot! But it was more like watching a movie than participating in it – until our bodies pressed against each other and we kissed! Then there was no escaping what I was doing! Still, I’m sure the other guys understood that I had no control over myself. After all, the same thing was happening to them – that, and a lot worse!

I wondered if I could have done that voluntarily? I thought I could. But I guess the device didn't want to give me the opportunity of behaving wrongly at that moment. Not right after seeing Mr. Lawson, and not in front of my three friends.

"Can we start at Betsy’s Books & Candles?" Rick gushed. "It’s been almost a week since I’ve been there and I need something to read!"

"Let’s go!" I said and we marched down the spanking clean sidewalk toward the bookstore.

I could imagine what any guy back home would have thought if he’d seen the four of us. We were heaven on earth! Four beautiful, vivacious young women in short dresses or skirts with bare arms and shoulders, high heeled sandals, and legs that went on forever – How could he have not flipped? Two weeks ago I would have!

There were two other girls in the store and we stopped and introduced ourselves and chatted briefly about our husbands and how the books in the store were really helpful to our marriages. Then we made a bee-line to the back of the store to what I started thinking of as the sex book table. For some reason none of us was shy about it anymore. We all picked out a new book and then split up and wandered around the shop.

I think I was in voluntary behavior. I thought I felt a little warmth come over me but it was so subtle it was hard to be sure. I looked through the make-up books and ended up choosing one of them, figuring what the heck, I was going to be made to buy one anyway.

On the next table over I found a new selection of very pretty diaries. Though each cover was different – some had paintings, some flower patterns, and some had colorful abstract patterns – the insides of all of them were exactly the same. The pages were labeled "Day One" and so on for 365 pages, with no mention of any months or years. In the normal world I would have guessed that was so they could sell them all year long and they’d never be out of date, but here on the island I wasn’t sure why they were done like that. The technology could make new diaries starting with today’s date any time they wished – or better yet, just make as many as they knew they were going to sell and make a certain number of us buy them. For some reason, though, that’s not the way they had done it.

"Girls, come look!" I called, totally unexpectedly.

My three friends came over, each of them carrying two books. I showed them the diaries and they oooh-ed and ahhh-ed and spent twenty minutes looking at all the covers before each deciding on one.

"Keeping a diary!" Jack said. "This is going to be so fun!"

We all giggled like high school girls.

"When we swap books the day after tomorrow nobody gets my diary!" Rick laughed.

We went quickly through the check-out procedure, all of us now being seasoned shoppers of Athernia.

Outside the weather was the same as always – clear skies and a comfortable room temperature, with not enough humidity to mess up our hairdos.

"Oh goody!" Kevin said when we came to another store entrance. "This is my favorite! I came here with Helen Goodway three days ago and I swear we spent four hours here!"

The store was called Sally’s Shoes and the classy window display held a small selection of slides with three-inch heels.

It turned out that Rick had also been there before, also with other girls that he had met either at dinners he and Robert had given or ones they had attended. Jack and I, of course, had shopped there together before the dinner parties we had gone to.

The TV lady – Jill – had mentioned that two- and three-couple dinners were one of the most popular activities on the island. I found them a little disturbing at first, especially seeing the other wives when I knew they were also guys inside. Their exterior behavior, complete with loving touches and adoring looks for their husbands, was as uncomfortable to watch as seeing their pretty faces and bodies. I knew what they were going through mentally, or at least what they had gone through at one time in the past. But, like them, my behavior and appearance at the dinners was pleasant, very feminine, and very attentive to my husband.

Both Marilyn Fretlow and Ann Franklin had suggested we go shopping together some time and promised to call. We had talked on the phone later but for some reason never made definite shopping plans unlike, apparently, my friends had done with their dinner companions. On my part I had strongly resisted it because I realized that developing new "friends" would further divide the four of us, just as moving into separate houses had done. Either the other guys hadn’t been given the freedom to resist or else they hadn’t seen the danger. That made it kind of useless for me to continue postponing accepting shopping invitations from new friends.

Sally’s Shoes was a fabulous looking store. The interior was as classy as the window display indicated it would be, with all kinds of flashy displays and very ritzy seating. The walls were filled with catalogs, as they were in most of the stores, but in this case they didn’t start until about three feet off the floor. The bottom section – all the way around the long store – was covered in mirrors so we could admire our dainty feet in the shoes we tried on.

The other guys seemed to know what areas they wanted to see, but I just wandered around. With the exception of a very small section that displayed flats all the shoes were heels, and most of them were two to three and a half inch heels. Though there were cut-outs, sling-backs and pumps, the majority were strap heels which left almost all of the foot bare. They were the style I found in my closet, with few exceptions, so apparently that’s what the men of Athernia preferred to see on women’s feet. They were elegant, and at least they went with the tropical look of the island.

I found myself picking out a red pair of strap slides with three-inch stiletto heels, and then a very fancy pair of straps in natural brown leather with intricate stitching and two inch heels. I didn’t bother trying them on. I somehow knew they’d fit.

"Have you seen the stuff in back?" Jack whispered. I’d been so absorbed in looking at the shoes that I hadn’t even heard him come up behind me.

Neither one of us had ventured to the back of the store when we'd been there before. "No," I said. "What is it?"

He giggled quietly and motioned with his head for me to follow him.

"I found them the last time I was here," he whispered. "I couldn't wait to show you."

We walked down the long, beautifully carpeted center aisle all the way to the back of the store. The very last tables on both sides displayed some very weird looking – .things. There were gold plaques on the tables that said, in flowing script, ""Ballet", "For Home Wear Only" and "For the Bedroom".

The shoes, at least on the right side of the aisle, which is where we were, had heels so high I couldn’t imagine anyone could stand in them! The "ballet heels" looked like they actually forced a girl to stand on tiptoe! True, there was support all around, including up around the ankle, but it still looked incredibly uncomfortable. The others weren’t quite as bad but the heels still made them look like a girl would topple over wearing them.

"See these?" Jack said in a low, almost giddy voice.

I turned around and went to the table on the other side of the aisle. There were more little gold plaques saying basically the same thing – these weren’t to be worn in public. The table was filled with a big display of boots, most of them coming to just below the knee but some of them going all the way up to mid-thigh.

"I’ve got two pair," Jack said. "Sam loves them!"

I couldn’t get excited about them, which I took to mean that Peter probably wouldn’t be turned on by seeing me in boots or ridiculously tall heels. If Peter had liked them I’m sure I would have been made to feverishly check out one pair after another. Was it that, or was I just subconsciously learning Peter’s tastes? That was a chilling thought.

I left Jack at the boot display – obviously Sam had a thing for him in boots – and went back to the display of flats. Thinking it would be a relief to finally wear something other than heels I checked through the small selection. I’d looked at two or three pair before I saw small gold sign. "Not for everyday use. Flats may only be worn when hosing down the patio, using the step-stool to reach a high pantry or curio cabinet shelf, etc. Every girl should have one pair for temporary use!" Well, they were making their point pretty clear, that’s for sure!

Like girls everywhere I guess, we spent well over an hour in Sally’s and all of us walked out with at least two new pairs of shoes.

Back on the sidewalk we headed for the next store. A trio of girls came out of a shop further down and I saw it was Debbie and two friends. They noticed us, too, and waved. I caught Debbie’s eye and she slowed her pace, speaking to her friends who then nodded, smiled and continued walking. Debbie went into a door to her immediate left just as the four of us were heading into The Dinner Party Store entrance.

"I’m going down here for a second," I told Kevin, who was right in front of me and about to pass into the store. "I just saw someone I want to say Hi to."

"Okay! Don’t be long. This place has some really great things for hostessing!" he said.

I quickly walked down to the doorway Debbie had gone through, discovering it was a cosmetics store. We appeared to be the only two people there.

Debbie said, "My husband said, I didn’t want to tell you too much the first time we talked because I knew it was your first time out of the house."

"My husband says," I said, "How long do we have?"

"My husband says, it’s unpredictable," Debbie said. "Daniel asks if you tried this with anyone else?"

"My husband says, with my friends but they didn’t get it," I said.

"My husband suggests you try with just your best friend."

"My husband wonders how long you’ve been doing this," I asked.

"My husband says, I discovered it four years ago but after the new girls had been here a couple weeks it didn't work with them anymore," Debbie said. "My husband says, I’m always trying something new and every now and then something works. My husband says, eventually though, whatever it is stops working. My husband says, never give up."

I nodded. It was incredible to be able to talk honestly with someone, even if we had to use this stilted form of phrasing. "My husbands asks if you ever tried getting through to your husband?"

"My husband says, all the time but with no luck yet."

That was discouraging.

"Daniel says, seeing you brought back so many memories of my early days on the island," Debbie said. "My husband says, I understand what you’re doing through."

"My husband says, I’m having a hard time deciding about this voluntary behavior stuff," I said. "My husband wonders if all the transformed guys eventually voluntarily accept it, like I’ve been told."

There was a long pause before Debbie answered. "My husband says, after a while you’re never quite sure if it’s you or the device or habit, so in a sense it doesn’t really matter. My husband says he’s not completely sure about the other girls, but I think some of them like it better than their old lives. My husband says that I’ve never completely lost my true self. My husband says, that only makes it harder."

I knew from what Mr. Lawson had told us when we first arrived that the last people shipwrecked, before the four of us, had arrived "a few years ago" so Debbie, even if she was among the newest, had to have been here before them. That meant more than four years. Years! How could I even imagine what it was like for a guy that had been made into a woman and been made to live as a young wife for years? It was inconceivable! As to thinking about that for my future...I couldn’t! The idea was just too far beyond belief.

"My husband says, we probably don’t have much more time," Debbie said.

That was a strong hint to do my thinking later.

"Peter wonders how long you’ve been on the island," I said.

She hesitated. "My husband says, thirty-three years."

She had to have been one of the original eight men! I’d just assumed that since they were the founders they had all stayed men and changed later arrivals into girls! That's what Mr. Lawson had told us had happened.

"My husband says, you were with Mr. Lawson when the first boat came here."

Debbie nodded briefly, with no smile on her face. "My husband says, at the historic meeting I was the only one who strongly objected to what they planned to do. My husband says, I refused to wear the man’s ring. My husband says, they let me alone for a few weeks, but then they said my moral outrage disturbed the tranquility of the island. My husband says, so they made me into the first girl."

It had all come out in a rush and though it was said matter-of-fact I could sense the anger behind the words.

"My husband asked," I said, "if you or any of the other transformed guys ever tried to escape." I was thrilled to have been able to say the word out loud! Escape!

There was a pause before Debbie said, "My husband says that there's no reason to, that we've got everything we could possibly want right here. My husband says, I'd be old if I left.. My husband says, you'll understand that soon. My husband says, the only thing I really want is to be able to talk freely, to tell the men that they're wrong in doing what they're doing and shouldn't change anyone else against their will."

"My husband asked," I started, then hesitated. "My husband asked, can they change us back?"

"Daniel says, I don't know," Debbie said. "Daniel says that they couldn't do it in the beginning, but that they've been working on the technology for many years so maybe they can do it now."

"My husband asked," I said, "if you can help us get off Athernia."

"My husband says, in another week or two you won't want to leave," Debbie said. "My husband says, I know it's hard for you to believe, but when you think about the world you left, and what Athernia offers, you'll be glad to stay."

That wasn't what I wanted to hear! Debbie was going to be no help at all!

"Peter says, that may be true but I'm going anyway," I said. "My husband wonders if you have any ideas..."

Debbie looked directly in my eyes before replying.

"My husband says, when the men built a boat and tried to leave we found we couldn't, because nothing created on the island can leave the island. My husband says, the lifeboat you arrived in wasn't created on the island."

"My husband says, but we were," I said.

"My husband says, no, you were transformed on the island, not created," Debbie said.

"My husband says – " I started, but couldn’t get anything else out of my mouth. I suddenly smiled broadly. "We’ll have to have dinner some time! I’ll call you! I’m sure Peter would love it! That’s such a pretty dress, by the way! It's just the right color for you!"

Debbie grinned and took my hands in hers, "Thanks! I’ll check with Daniel about having you two over some night next week. I can show you the new panty and bra set I just got from Laura’s Lingerie. The panties are crotchless!"

We giggled and hugged, finally parting with an air kiss on each cheek.

I left the shop with my head spinning. Thirty years as a pretty twenty-year old girl! Maybe it had been too much to expect that the man deep inside Debbie would want to come out. Or even if she remembered what she was like when she was a guy! She said she'd never "lost her true self" but did she really know what she was talking about?

My hope that I could get some helpful information out of her turned out to be the best thing that had happened to us since we'd arrive. The idea about the lifeboat was the thing that was going to save us! Debbie may not have the desire to escape Athernia, but she had given me the answer on how to do it.

As I left the store Jack was just about to enter.

"C'mon Diana! We're all going to Fran's Formalwear! Does Debbie want to come, too?"

"No, I don't think so," I said. "Her friends are probably wondering where she went off to."

 

"Well hurry up, then. Kathleen and Rita are already there!"

"My husband says," I said, "that there's a way we can talk to each other."

Jack stopped and looked at me.

"My husband says, that there's a way we can talk to each other," I said very deliberately.

Jack looked at me for a minute without saying anything. Then he caught on.

"My husband says," he started, "I want to go home."

He burst into a smile.

I smiled back.

"Peter says," I started, "I do, too, and I may have found a way!"

"Oh..." Jack exclaimed, then froze. "Sam says that's wonderful!"

"Peter says," I said, "that I think until we make our move we're going to have to pretend we're accepting what they've done to us, and do everything voluntarily, just like they want. Peter says, they won't trust us otherwise."

Jack thought about that.

"Sam says, everything?"

"Peter says, everything."

"I don – Sam says, I don't know if I can, not everything."

"Peter says we have to. Peter says there's no other way that I can think of."

Just then Kevin came out of a door a couple shops down.

"There you are!" he called. "Hurry up, you've got to see what Rita found!"

"We're coming," I replied with a smile, and Jack and I hurried to Fran's Formalwear.

Throughout the rest of the afternoon there was no opportunity to get Jack alone again and tell him more about what Debbie had said.

Neither did anyone mention that I had been to talk to Mr. Lawson. No one evidenced curiosity, or even made a casual reference. We just shopped and laughed and looked pretty.

By the time Sam came to pick us up it was close to sunset and the stores were getting ready to close. The cabinets would have their hands full with all the stuff we'd purchased and, honestly, I couldn't wait to get home and get the packages. The only one I wasn't looking forward to was the diary and book I'd picked up at Betsy's.

When Sam dropped me off he said that Peter wasn't home yet but would be along in about an hour.

I noticed that Peter was never home when I got home. I guess I was always supposed to be available when he was there, so I wouldn't have been gone if he had been home.

I put my purse on the coffee table, but instead of going to the cabinet as I expected I would do, I went to the kitchen and made myself a cup of coffee. I went to the dining room and sat down. It felt good to get off my feet and relax.

I was going to have to move quickly on the voluntary thing. Taking it gradually would only mean that I would have to endure life on the island that much longer. Like a bandage, it was one of those things that was better to rip off all at once!

But that put a burden on me that I wasn't sure I could handle. Could I really appear to enthusiastically become the perfect Athernian woman? The perfect Athernian wife? The perfect Athernian lover?!

That was it, really. The bras and panties and nylons and dresses and all that stuff weren't so bad. I sure had the body for them! Actually, I was amazed at how fast I was getting used to wearing pretty outfits. But the clothes and the make-up weren't enough to show them I was accepting my new life. To convince them I'd have to accept what I realized was the most important part of the whole thing for the men. The question was – Could I voluntarily and enthusiastically have sex with another guy without quickly coming to a line that I couldn't bring myself to cross?

I wasn't sure, even if it was the only way I could get free from the control long enough to escape. My brain said it was an easy decision. Do it, and I could stop being a submissive girl. Don't do it, and I would stay on Athernia forever.

I had been laid thirteen times in the last eight days. Believe me, I counted every single one of them! I had caressed another man's naked body just as many times. I couldn't begin to count the number of times I had been made to french kiss a man, and how many make out sessions I had endured. I had held a man's aroused sex organ, and caressed it! And I was, I had to admit to myself, getting somewhat used to it. At least it was slightly less objectionable each time. It would undoubtedly become even less of a problem as time went on.

My new body received a great deal of pleasure from Peter's caresses. I had strong orgasms when he fucked me. My body liked it. A lot!

For my male brain or male personality or male memories or whatever it was that was left of Dave Johnson, the sex was still a problem. But less now than a few days ago

That was hard to face, but once I did I was able to think more objectively about my fate. I could do it. I had to!

I went to the cabinet and took out the shopping bags. The books went on the coffee table and the dress, the shoes, two nighties and one formal gown went in their appropriate places in the bedroom. Our bedroom. The bedroom I shared with my husband. I took one of the nighties out of the drawer where I'd just put it and took it into my bathroom, placing it on the vanity. If I was going to do it, I might as well be prepared!

 

I read for half an hour before I realized Peter was due home at any minute and I hadn't fixed anything for dinner!

With the food synthesizer it was fast and easy, but I still had to prepare the table. After setting the places and prettying up the centerpiece I went to the synthesizer.

The Introduction to the book had suggested starting with the little things, and getting used to making what it called "the right decisions" voluntarily. I pushed the lighted "A" button and the device switched from automatic to displaying a long menu. I only had to push the "Next" button to see more and more choices.

My mind raced. What would be Peter's favorite all time meal? He had said he'd liked the steak, and last night he said he really liked baked potatoes. What else had he said? I couldn't remember anything specific! Should I choose just steak and baked potatoes? No, he just had that! What, then? Roast beef? He'd probably like that. Okay! Au Gratin potatoes? No, guys don't like wet, mushy foods very often. Fried? Boiled? Mashed? There were so many choices on the synthesizer menu!

I did the best I could, Boiled potatoes, no cream, lots of butter. No vegetable. Peter said he didn't like too many vegetables. I was amazed at how much I was remembering about the comments he'd made. Then again, what other input was I getting from anywhere else? None. They were making him the center of my life.

This time around I didn't even make an attempt to find something we would both like!

Boiled turned out to be a good choice. He liked it. Our evening was at least starting off okay.

After I cleaned the table and put all the dishes and leftovers into the chute I joined Peter on the couch. Before I sat down I pulled all my courage together and leaned down and kissed him. He responded right away, opening his mouth and sliding his tongue into mine! I knew I wasn't being made to do this, and it took a hesitant second before I was able to put my tongue in his mouth!

He smiled at me when we parted, and I think he realized that the gesture had been my idea, not the ring's.

I sat down next to him and he put his arm around me. I could feel that I was still operating under my own control. I put my hand on his thigh.

The strange thing about all this voluntary stuff was that it wasn't that bad once I was actually doing something. It was tough to push myself to kiss him, for example, and the first couple seconds were a real hurdle. But once we actually were kissing it wasn't really a big problem. Peter was a nice guy. He was very good looking, with short, thick, wavy brown hair and sparkling eyes. He was considerate and gentle. He never pushed me into anything that I didn't appear, on the outside at least, to be ready to do. And, after all, we'd made out a lot in the last few days!

Okay, so he was a guy and I was a guy. But I was also a girl. How could I not acknowledge that I was gorgeous, that I had breasts and a vagina, and all the rest? Physically, I responded like a girl!

Even many of my thoughts were becoming female thoughts when I was under the control of the device. My male self was still there, still in control of my brain, but there were times when I didn't really seem to be thinking. I would act instinctively. With the instincts of a girl! Besides, I may be in control of my brain, but my brain sure hadn't been in control of my body!

Peter told me about his day at the lab and how they had really worked feverishly on one of the technologies because they thought they understood a key part of it. He spoke in general terms, and I didn't know if it was because he thought the details would bore little ol' me, or if he was keeping secrets until the men were sure that I wouldn't try something like escaping. I honestly think it was the first reason. He didn't figure a mere girl would be interested in the scientific stuff that he did. I wanted to know, but even though I was in a kind of free action mode similar to free speech, I didn't press. It might make the device, or Peter, suspicious.

While he was talking I was thinking.

We would make love tonight. We had every night, sometimes more than once, so for sure we would tonight. The question was, could I do it voluntarily? I didn't know.

If I could only go so far and no further, the controller would take over and make me do it. The TV lady had said that, and so had the Introduction to the book.

It did make sense, in a warped kind of way, that if I was going to get laid by another guy at least I could be in control of myself rather than be under the control of the device.

Peter asked me about my day and how "the girls" had enjoyed the shops of Athernia. He sounded authentically interested.

I told him about all about it. I told him about the stores, and what we saw and what we still had left to see. I said we'd met some other girls and they'd invited us to dinner at their homes and said they would call. I said that everyone had bought something and I hoped I hadn't spent too much.

"You didn't spend enough," he said with a smile. "You've got a whole wardrobe to build up. I'm afraid, darling, that as much as you'll hate the idea, you'll just have to do a lot more shopping very soon."

I grinned and poked him in the side.

"Now, do I get to see what you bought?" he asked.

Well, there was my cue.

I only hesitated for a second before saying, "I do have something in particular that I think you'll like. Why don't I take a bath and then model it for you?"

He caught on right away and kissed me. "Why don't you?" he said in a soft voice.

Whew! I had committed! I had initiated sex, and I had done it voluntarily. I only hoped I'd be able to go through with it!

Or did I?!

I got my purse from the coffee table and kissed him quickly before walking down the hall, my heels sinking silently into the carpet and my hips swaying.

 

************************

 

After breakfast Peter left for the lab and I walked out by the pool, enjoying the fresh air and sunshine. I sat in a deck chair for a while. The breeze felt wonderful against my stocking covered legs and I was glad I'd chosen such a short skirt to wear this morning. I also had on a new pair of strap slides with three and a half in heels. I was getting to like high heels, actually. They brought me up closer to my old height and helped overcome the feeling that I was so small and vulnerable. The higher the heel the better!

I thought about the other women of Athernia.

They had started out like we had, and now they were always in free speech and free action. They had apparently accepted their girlhood. Some, I was sure, had found it very, very difficult at first – pity the macho, male chauvinists among them! – while others had probably been surprised at how easily they slipped into being girls and how much they enjoyed it. They may have all started out as guys, but not every guy is the same as every other guy and I was careful not to think about them – us! – as a homogenous block.

On Athernia, however, the rules were a little different. Maybe the "girls" hadn't all started out with the same attitudes, but they had all ended up being very similar. They were now freely behaving as girls, and we were obviously meant to infer that we would soon totally accept our new gender, too

I wanted to give the impression that I was on my way to doing just that so I would be granted total free speech and free actions faster.

Last night I had tried. I had taken a long, luxurious bubble bath. But it was long only because once I stripped and got in the water I wanted to stay there forever in order to delay what was coming next!

I did, of course, finally get out, dry off, and put on the new negligee that I had picked out. I panicked a little when I realized I didn't have any matching high heeled slipper to go with it. I would have to add them to my shopping list!

Finally, barefoot and virtually naked, I left the bathroom. I half expected to find Peter sitting on the bed, or already in bed, because I'd heard his shower running while I bathed, but he wasn't there.

He was in the front room, on the sofa, in bathrobe and slippers. It didn't take a brain surgeon to figure out what I had been hinting at earlier...what I had initiated!

I modeled the nightie, though not for long because I got so self-conscious about what I was doing! To cover my feelings I went to the couch and straddled his thighs, settling down on his strong legs. Peter's hands went to my bare midriff like they'd been magnetized and we started making out.

Okay, the kissing wasn't half bad. Yes, it was voluntary, just like everything else to that point, and I had to force myself to start. But once I did, my body started reacting and I got hot!

At that point it started to get confusing. My body got hot because of the way they had designed it. My skin was sensitive to Peter's touch and my body responded sexually to both his kisses and caresses. I wouldn't call that voluntary!

But when I had straddled his lap on the couch, and kept kissing him – that was voluntary. I'm sure if I had suddenly wanted to pull away and slap him I wouldn't have been able to, but I knew that and didn't even consider it. Is that voluntary? I wasn't sure!

Later, in the bedroom, when he lifted the very short top of my nightie and started kissing and licking my breasts and nipples the temperature in the room rose twenty degrees! My body loved it! So did his. I could feel his sex organ hardening between us!

To distract myself from the growing member I broke our kiss and whispered in his ear, "I love you." Strictly voluntary. And not that hard to say. I'd been made to tell him that at least twice a day up to now, so doing it of my own volition, especially as a distraction, was almost easy.

It's clear in my mind that I did voluntarily do certain things. For example, when we were in bed and I was stroking his thing I decided that I would rather be on top, in the cowgirl position, as opposed to being on my back with my legs spread and having him driving his thing into me. If I was going to be forced to have sex with another guy at least I could be in control!

I continued making out with him and simultaneously caressing his heavy log in the hopes of getting him so excited that the actual sex wouldn't last very long.

When I thought he was about to make a move to guide me on to my back I swung a leg over his body, reached between us for his warm pole, and centered it on my wet vagina. Lowering my hips and feeling him slide into me was all my doing! At the time I couldn't believe it! Were they making me do it and I just didn't feel the power of the ring?! No, I was doing it myself!

After that it gets very hazy for me. Some was voluntary, some wasn't, but I couldn't seem to find any clear cut line that separated them. I know that when a certain movement of my hips felt really good to me, I did it again!

The whole idea of the island, of us "girls", was to please the men, and doing something for my own physical pleasure was probably against the rules. But Peter was more than thrilled, and I didn't see how the device would know I'd made the movement for myself.

I do remember that it hit me at a couple different times that I was actively riding up and down on another guy's stiff cock! But I always seemed to do something physical to distract my brain.

And I had gotten through it. The sex, the post-sex cuddling, and falling asleep in his arms – I had gotten through all of it voluntarily.

I got up from the deck chair and went inside, suddenly embarrassed by thinking of sex with Peter.

Had I made the right decision? As I appeared to them to be accepting myself as a girl wasn't I, in effect, actually doing just that?! Would I lose the part of me that was staying male?

It had to be the right thing to do because I couldn't think of any other way to get off the island. If I continually resisted every time the controller gave me free actions it would be forever before I could get free enough to try to escape. By acting like I loved being a subservient girl I could stop being a girl that much sooner!

Maybe.

I did think about what might happen when I got away from the island's power. Would my body stay like this? Would I be a girl forever? It wasn't being here that had changed me, it was the device. I had been changed from a guy to a girl. Although I'd be free when I escaped I very much feared that my body and voice would still be that of a twenty-year old girl!

My hope was that outside the range of the controller the changes would be undone. Honestly, it didn't seem likely, but at least there was a chance. And whether I physically changed back or not, I would still be free of the sexist rules of Athernia!

This had to be the right choice. It just had to be!

Throughout the day I was in free action almost all the time. It was almost like a reward for my behavior the night before. And that was exactly what I wanted!

I cleaned off my make-up and got undressed. I chose some scented bath oils and soaked in the warm water of the tub. When I got out I spent an hour and a half replacing my make-up. The device exercised quite a bit of control during that process, but I think it was only because I wasn't confident yet about which bit of make-up to apply or how to apply it.

After putting on a bra, panties, garter belt, nylons, and a short dress, I went into the front room. Determined to continue giving the impression that I was accepting that I was now a girl, I resumed reading the gift book I'd gotten from Betsy's. The one on voluntary behavior.

Considering how infrequently new girls were created from guys ship wrecked on the island I realized that the book had been created, or at least reprinted, just for the four of us. That was kind of amazing, really, but par for the course on Athernia.

The book extolled the virtues of voluntarily accepting that we were girls and that our goal in life was to please our husbands. It approached the subject from every angle and was pretty persuasive.

The main suggestion was to either take a bold step today and accept the reality of our life in one jump, or work on it gradually, starting with the smaller things and adding more each day, following the book's ten day plan. Because voluntary was voluntary, it even said we could adjust the plan to suit ourselves, though it encouraged the reader to move along as fast as they could.

Well, my choice had been a little different. I was going to hurry up and fake it!

Deciding to make a break for the open sea, and figuring out a way to do it, lightened my spirits and I virtually floated around the house. I called Jack and was almost bubbly on the phone. Later, one of Debbie's friends called and she gave me two recipes not on the synthesizer that she said her husband loved and that I might try for Peter. She filled me in on a dinner party that she'd been to with two couples. The South Seas Malaysian theme gave the girls the opportunity to wear sarongs, and the three of them had worked up a little pseudo hula cum Bali Hi Thai dance for the men. That went over really big.

"I think all the men got erections!" she said. "I know they didn't want to stand up after the dance! It was so cute! Arthur asked me to repeat the dance when we got home and his gorgeous penis was standing up like a flag pole when I was done! You should have seen it! Oooh, what a romp we had!"

"You'll have to teach me!" I begged.

"Oh I will, Diana! It's easy! I think the sarong really does the trick! It sort of covers a lot, but it's sort of exotic, too."

It didn't strike her that living on a South Seas island, as we did, was pretty exotic on its own.

When Peter came home I was still in a great mood and I greeted him at the door with lots of fire. It wasn't difficult. I'd done it so many times already that doing the tongue tango with him was almost old hat. I suppose there was still some part of me that objected to kissing another guy so passionately, but if so, that part never surfaced. That was just as well. I was pretty convincing!

I won't say Peter was distracted, but he was in a pretty up mood himself. Seems they had made kind of a mini breakthrough at whatever they were working on at the lab. They hadn't solved the mystery of the piece of alien technology that they were working on, but they had gotten a step closer and that excited him.

By the time we finished dinner and were cuddled together on the couch he had told me the whole story. Twice. Though he still talked in general terms it seemed that he and the others believed that what they were working on was a machine that might have been used to manufacture a unique fuel. The guess – the hope – was that it was the fuel that the creators of the island had used in their ships.

I played the dutiful wife, getting excited with him but not really caring inside. What good was rocket fuel without a rocket engine? Besides, they were still apparently a long way from even understanding all of the fuel generator. How would that help me get off the island as fast as I could? It wouldn't.

After the second telling, Peter asked me about my day. It sounded kind of shallow compared to his, but I managed to transmit some of my happiness and he picked up on it easily.

Then he asked if I wanted to watch TV!

"I tried to get it to work," I said, "but I couldn't get it to even turn on."

"There isn't usually anything on during the day," he said. "But there's a movie or some programs on in the evening. Most are black and white."

"With all this technology?" I asked, surprised.

"From the fifties and sixties," he said. "The newer stuff just didn't seem to fit in very well here. Nobody liked it. Some of the movies from the forties are really good. I used to watch a lot of TV before – ," He turned to me. "Before I found you," he said softly.

The fifties and sixties, when the women were obedient, stayed at home, and wore petticoats under their dresses during the day! Predictable!

I slid my hand up the inside of his thigh, stopping just short of his crotch.

"You don't have to do that anymore," I said seductively.

He smiled and kissed me. While we kissed I moved my hand further up and grabbed his sex organ. What the hell, in for a penny, in for a pound!

Peter groaned and kissed me more passionately.

His organ started growing immediately, and I had to admit that it was fun being in control of a guy for a change. If I moved my hand or tightened my grip, he would groan again and kiss me harder. If I let up, or moved my hand away a little, his body relaxed and his kisses became softer and more exploratory. The men may run this little island, but we girls are not without power!

I was tempted to unzip his fly and put my hand inside his pants but decided that was better left for the bedroom.

"I'm going to take a shower," he said softly. "Why don't you go to the cabinet. There's a little present in there for you."

He kissed me again and stood up, holding both my hands. Looking down on me like that made him look very large and I felt very small and feminine. I could see the bulge of his rod against the front of his pants.

He took one of my hands and placed it on the cylinder shaped protrusion.

I smiled and he smiled.

He bent down and kissed me again.

"I'll see you after our showers," he said.

I grinned and watched him walk down the hall. His masculine gait sure looked nice.

Now, whatever could be in the cabinet? Being a guy, I frankly didn't expect anything surprising from Peter. I would have guessed either a sexy nightie or something in the stockings, garter belt, high heels department. I noticed that the men didn't seem to have much imagination beyond those two looks. But what the hell, neither had I up until a few days ago!

It was stockings and high heels. Deep purple stockings and matching high heels! No garter belt because the nylons were self supporting. Whoo, whoo, big surprise.

But, still, even I had to admit that I was going to look as sexy as hell wearing them! I had very shapely legs with small ankles and feet. My skin was soft and supple, though my legs were firm. My hips curved nicely – not too big and not too small – and my waist was tiny. And my breasts? The best!

On the way to the bathroom I got a little stage fright and had to force my way past it. I was going to have sexual intercourse with a guy again. It wasn't like it was something I had never done before, but it was still a little strange.

And now I was doing it on my own, voluntarily! I was being the best and hottest little wife you ever saw!

That thought was enough to make me break stride as I walked down the hall carrying the nylons and heels. What was I doing! Was this absolutely necessary?! Wasn't there some other way to get the controller to believe I was trustworthy?

I still couldn't think of one. If I ever wanted to be in charge of my own life again I was going to have to go through with this.

The one thing I had come up with to help me make it through my second voluntary night was simple, though it did help. When Peter and I were finally in bed and he was fully aroused I managed to get onto my hands and knees as he sat up. Typically – typically! – I would have laid down on my back and spread my legs for him, and then have had to watch him as he got on top and fucked me. But when I got on my hands and knees on the bed, and then spread my legs, he moaned, "Oh, yeah – Diana, you are beautiful – all of you..." and he knelt behind me. I was able to close my eyes.

I felt his large hands gently kneading the globes of my firm little bottom. He caressed the silky smooth skin all the way from my waist to my thighs. He even slid one hand between my spread legs and put a finger into my hot, wet pussy.

It was my turn to moan! It wasn't fake and it wasn't the device!

From then on it got blurry again. My body took over even before he slipped into me. Was I moaning and breathing so heavily under the control of the device, or was I voluntarily responding to Peter's masculine presence inside my passionate girls body? Who cared! I was getting off!!

 

******************

 

Peter again left the housed right after breakfast. No morning quickie, thank heavens! He wanted to get to the lab, I could tell, and that was fine with me!

I had mixed feelings about the rest of the day. It had been a week since I'd been together with my buddies. A week where they had undoubtedly been going through the same things that the ring was making me go through. There was no reason to think that any of them had come up with the idea of appearing to voluntarily accept our girlhood so we could escape. None of them had talked with Debbie.

But each of my friends was getting laid every night, and probably sometimes during the day, too! Jack, Kevin and Rick were all dressing in provocative nighties or prancing around almost naked in nylons and heels just to excite their husbands! They were french kissing other guys! They were stroking men's dicks! Men were coming inside of them! And they were...

I didn't want to think about it.

Seeing them and being together was something I had thought was vital to our ability to survive what we were being put through, but our first meeting hadn't been what I had pictured.

In the period of free speech that we had been allowed after the appearance of the TV lady, about all we'd been able to convey was that we were miserable as girls and totally powerless to change anything. When not in free speech we all behaved in such an overwhelmingly feminine manner that it was hard to watch. I knew these guys! I knew what was going on in their minds as they were made to cross their pretty legs or reach for their purses to take out a cigarette!

And the way they looked! The way we all looked! We were too beautiful!

The happy little get together was nothing more than seeing each other as girls, or hearing that the guys inside were helpless, or listening to the TV lady – Jill – up the ante on what we were expected to do as young newlyweds. So I really had mixed feelings about getting together again.

This week it would be at Rick's house. At least I didn't have to play hostess!

I decided to wear a dress instead of a skirt and blouse. It was easier and, I think, prettier. The few skirts I had tended to be tight and restricted my movement a little. Besides, there was no point in wearing a form fitting skirt when it would only be the four of us.

Rick called to remind me of what time to be there, and when I asked what I should bring he said not to worry about a thing. He said he was looking forward to seeing me and I said the same.

The door opened without a problem. I figured it would because these get togethers had been approved by the men.

I walked to the curb and turned down the sidewalk toward Rick's house. I turned onto Jack's walkway and was about to step up on his front step when the door opened and he came out. He was wearing a very short burgundy number, with no sleeves and a deep neckline.

"Diana!" he squealed, and we hugged each other.

"Oh, this is going to be so fun!" he said. "Do you like the dress?"

"Sexy!" I said with a laugh.

"I know! I just had to show you!"

"I love it, but you really should show Sam, not us!"

"I did," he said. "He loved it! I think he wondered if it had a built in slip – because he kept putting his hands up my dress all evening!!"

Man, this was very bad. We hadn't even gotten with the other guys yet and Jack was already being made to indulge in silly sex talk!

We walked back to the sidewalk and toward the next house on the block. On the way I saw a beautiful group of wild orchids growing in a little clump across the street, just as natural looking as could be.

"Oh, look Jack! Aren't they beautiful!"

I started across the street without thinking. Nothing stopped me. I got to the orchids, which were along the road just outside the heavier growth of tropical vegetation. I suddenly realized Jack wasn't with me and I turned to see why.

He was standing on the sidewalk. I caught his eye and he shrugged. He started to put one foot out, as if he was going to cross the street, then put his foot back.

"I can't seem to do it," he said.

The device was letting me cross the street but not him! Wow. It looked like I was being trusted!

I picked two orchids and rejoined him on the sidewalk.

Kevin came out as we approached his house. He saw us and squealed and we squealed back.

By the time we got to Rick's front door we were jabbering away about how beautiful a day it was, how beautiful the flowers were, and how beautiful each of us looked.

Jack knocked on the door and it opened almost right away. We all squealed one more time, and went through a series of hugs and air kisses.

I gave the flowers to Rick, "Our housewarming present!"

"Oh! They're so beautiful! Let me get a vase and some water!"

We all went inside, placed our purses neatly on Rick's large glass coffee table and sat on the couch. Like the Rockettes, we crossed our legs in unison!

Rick came back with a very expensive looking cut glass vase. The pair of orchids looked like they belonged nowhere else.

"Would any of you girls like something to drink?" he asked.

I thought I felt the very subtle and momentary warmth that indicated I was going into free speech or free action – or both.

"I've love a cup of coffee, Ri...Rita," I said. It had almost come out Rick!

"Me, too!" Jack said.

"Not for me, Rita," Kevin said. "Wait! Yes I will."

"I'll help," I volunteered.

We brought the coffee, along with delicate white china bowls of sugar and cream, pretty paper napkins that looked almost like cloth, and teaspoons. All of it was carried on two sterling silver trays. An elaborate production for such a simple thing. Guys wouldn't have bothered, but I was learning that these were the kinds of things that took up a girl's time and attention. Serving coffee properly and prettily was important.

Since I believed I was under free action and speech I was very careful before I opened my mouth. But I did say what I intended to say, even if it was something as innocuous as "Jennifer, would you please pass the cream?"

We chatted about the dinner parties we'd been to in the previous week, what the other women wore, about the weather, about some new brand of make-up we'd tried, about other girls we'd met while shopping, the different things we'd bought, and similar things.

Nothing we said was really personal. Nothing about how we, as people, felt. It all seemed superficial even when we talked about our own husbands, houses or hairdos.

We laughed from time to time, but it was about nothing.

The conversation was different from our gathering last week. Kevin, in particular, seemed to be a little careful with his words and sometimes seemed unsure of what to say. I wondered if he, too, was in free speech and pretending to go along with the voluntary bit. If so, we might be able to talk using the "my husband said" method that Debbie had taught me. I kept an eye on him.

We repeated much of what we'd already said to each other on the phone every day, though with different details and comments. It was clear that none of us had shared many experiences together in the last week, aside from an occasional shopping trip. We were telling each other about our lives, and our lives didn't really include each other anymore!

Jack and Kevin exchanged recipes. Jack and I arranged to borrow some of each other's clothes. Kevin and Rick got into a long discussion about interior decorating and finally decided to go shopping together for new sofas.

Each of us had jewelry – gifts from our husbands – that we showed off. That took us into a conversation about negligees and what our husbands liked to see us wear to bed.

Rick said he'd started writing Robert little love notes and leaving them around the house, or slipping them into his clothes when he left for the lab.

"Just quickies like 'I love you!', or 'I'm so lucky to be your wife!'," Rick explained.

"I'll bet that earns you a quickie!" Kevin joked.

We giggled like schoolgirls.

Jack told Rick he had a really great tan.

"Robert likes to see me in a bikini," Rick said, "and he likes to see bikini lines when I'm naked." He blushed.

"Alex's just the opposite," Kevin said. "The whiter my skin, the hotter he gets! And that's fine with me!"

His last sentence seemed a little too enthusiastic to me, almost as if it was forced. I don't think the others noticed it.

"Robert used to do a lot of photography before we were married," Rick said. He blushed. "He took a pin-up picture of me."

"Nude?' I asked with a giggle.

"Noooooo! Though it might as well have been, considering that tiny little bikini he bought me!"

"No!" Jack said. "Oh, Rita, show us, show us!"

Kevin and I chimed in

"I knew you'd ask if I mentioned it," Rick said. "Wait right here!"

He got up and hurried down the hall. The rest of us reached for our coffee cups. We held them firmly but daintily, and just sipped. I had turned to face the other girls during our conversation and now, as I looked over the rim of my cup, I caught Kevin's eye. He looked directly at me and winked!

I didn't quite know what that meant, but it sure surprised me! Had he caught on to the fact that I was in free speech and just sounded the same as I had when they had been controlling me? If so, did he realize I wasn't really behaving that way because I had accepted being a girl of Athernia, but that I just wanted them to think that I had?

Rick hurried back with the pictures – there was more than one – walking as fast as he could and still remain feminine and ladylike.

The first one he passed around was awesome. I'd seen that babe pose a hundred times before. When I was in high school I think I even had a calendar on my bedroom door that had that pose one month.

It was a simple shot. Rick, in a bright blue thong bikini with a twin triangle top that was more string than cloth, was reclining on a pool mattress. He was on his side. His top leg was bent so his foot was behind the knee of his extended bottom leg. His left wrist was on his knee and his upper body was propped up by his other arm.

Robert was an excellent photographer, and the image was razor sharp. Rick's breasts almost burst out of the small triangles, and his tummy was tight and flat. It was damn sexy! And we all said so.

That encouraged him and, though he was blushing, he passed around the other three shots. It was obvious he was proud of how great he looked in the bikini! In one picture he was sitting on the edge of the pool, in another standing by the pool ladder, and in the third he was sitting in a patio chair with his legs crossed and heels on. The poses looked professional and so did he. They were top drawer babe pictures!

"I can't pick my favorite!" Kevin said. "They're all so hot!

"Aren't they!" I said.

"What are you going to do with them?" Jack asked. "You can't really frame them and put them up, can you?"

"Not out here," Rick said, "but Robert wants to put them on his desk in the den."

"He'll never get any work done!" Kevin laughed.

"Which reminds me," Rick said. "I haven't shown you the house!"

We all stood and marched off behind him as he conducted a typically female tour of his immaculate home.

Back in the front room Kevin turned to Rick and said, "Ritaaaaaaaa – "

"What?"

"Are you being honest with us?"

"What do you mean?"

"Does Robert develop his own pictures?"

"Sure," Rick said. "He has a machine that does it for him."

Kevin, in an exaggerated voice, said, "And are those the only pictures he's taken of you? Huh? Huh?"

Rick blushed and bit his lower lip.

"Rita!" I exclaimed, catching on. "C'mon! Show us the nudes!!"

"The nudes!!" Jack chimed in.

Kevin laughed as Rick's blush deepened.

"The nudes!! The nudes!!" the three of us chanted.

Rick held up his dainty hands with their long, painted fingernails, and we quieted down.

"Those are between husband and wife," he said.

"And best girlfriends!" I said.

"No," Rick said. "Besides, they're only topless."

"Well you're almost topless in that bikini!" Jack said.

Rick looked at him, then suddenly broke into a giggle, "I am, aren't I?"

None of us pressed him about seeing the other pictures. If it was private between husband and wife, then it was none of our business.

"I do housework in the nude sometimes," Kevin suddenly announced.

"Kathleen!" Jack said.

"I do," Kevin said. "But I keep it ladylike. I wear heels!"

"If Alex ever came home and saw you like that..." Rick said. He was laughing quietly.

"I know," Kevin said, and started laughing, too.

"Erection time!" Rick said.

"Fine with me! Alex has the most beautiful penis. I love to see it erect!"

"Kathleen!" Jack exclaimed.

"I do! I honestly do!" Kevin said.

"I know what you mean," Rick confided. "Robert got so stiff when he was taking these pictures... I couldn't keep my eyes off it! We made love right there on the patio!"

"Outdoors?" I asked.

She nodded and grinned.

"We are soooo lucky!" Kevin said. "All we have to do is realize it. Isn't that right, Diana?"

Oh? That sure didn't sound like the ring talking. That was Kevin talking to me.

"It is!" I said.

 

"I agree, too," Jack said. "I love Sam's wonderful penis. It; so smooth and straight! One night I decided some lotion might be good for it and he let me put some on."

"Did he get stiff?" Kevin asked.

"As soon as I told him what I wanted to do!" Jack laughed.

"What happened?" I asked.

"You get three guesses, Diana, and the first two don't count!"

"Have any of you tried oral sex yet?" Kevin asked, as if it was the most natural question in the world.

Awww, man! Kevin, don’t say that! None of us wants to hear this! I knew all that penis talk was going to lead us into something more explicit. I'd been able to fake my acceptance of a lot of things in the last two days, but this was too much! The rings always pushed so hard!

Inside I curled into a ball, trying to withdraw from this insanity! I knew where this was going and I mentally screamed for Kevin to shut up! I couldn’t take any more! It was the TV girl and her insistence that all girls talk about when they get together was "sex, sex, sex". I tried with all my might to say something that would divert Kevin! I even tried to say something about sex! As long as it was vague and general! I didn’t want to hear Kevin talk about his sex life! Someone stop him! I knew we all felt as embarrassed for him as he felt himself. I suspected that he might have been faking acceptance, just like I was, and that he was able to speak freely. Until he said that! Then I realized the ring had taken control and was forcing him to go further. I was afraid it would do the same thing to me.

"I was pretty nervous," Kevin went on, "but I did real good. I went all the way, if you know what I mean, and it was just wonderful!"

"Ooooooh," Jack sighed. "Sam let me do the same thing to him and he loved it! It was great! Verrrry intimate!" He almost purred the phrase!

"Did you go all the way, Jennifer?" Kevin asked.

Shut up, Kevin! SHUT THE FUCK UP!!

"Of course," Jack said. He winked and licked his lips. Then added, like he was repeating a familiar mantra, "All the way is the only way!"

The two of them giggled and reached out and clasped each other’s hands. I wanted so badly to shut my eyes and cover my ears! I should have thought about stuffing a fist in my mouth, too!

"I’m so envious," I said. "It sounds heavenly!"

It came out before I knew it! I was no longer in free speech!

"It is!" they chirped in unison.

"Like Jennifer says, it’s so intimate! I think it really draws you closer to your husband." Kevin said. "And don’t wait for him to tell you...do it on your own! He’ll love it!"

"I’ll do it tonight!" I announced brightly. That chilling commitment popped out of my lipstick covered lips before I even knew it were coming! I recoiled inside! Outside I had a silly grin on my face, but I really wanted to get up and find the biggest glass of Hemlock available!

I knew, just as I had been powerless to stop the words, that I would be equally powerless to stop the actions! I knew that the guys were all looking at me, probably picturing me with Peter that night. I knew, too, that they were looking with total sympathy and understanding because they knew I was being made to make that promise, just as they had been made to sexually perform with men in their beds every night.

Uttering those four words knocked the wind right out of me! At least inside. No matter how mind boggling the thought of my promise was, outside I was still grinning and thrilled.

It was with horror that I found myself opening my mouth to say something else! What now!?

"Kathleen," I said. "Do you have an orgasm when you make love to Alex that way?"

"Oh, so personal!" Kevin said with a laugh. "Well, I’ll tell you what happened with me. Jennifer will have to speak for herself, but I did! It was so cute, like a mini-orgasm! Not as intense as when Alex and I are having sexual intercourse, but very nice. Of course the real reward is knowing that I pleased my husband. After all, that’s what marriage is all about isn’t it."

We all hardily and involuntarily agreed.

"And I had the same kind of mini-orgasm as Kathleen," Jack added with a smile.

The device’s plans for me for that night now filled my suddenly muddy brain. My thinking almost seemed frozen it was so overwhelmed with emotion. I was shocked by the thought of the public promise I had made and when my brain started contemplating the actual act I shut down.

I'd been doing such a good job of appearing to accept my fate! Why couldn't they back off and give me some breathing room?! When will they stop raising the stakes? Do we have to keep living in dread at not only what we’re being made to do, but what unknown thing would come next? There has to be an end!

Jack picked up his coffee cup and we all followed suite.

There was a natural silence as we all sipped.

Three chimes sounded.

We all set our coffee cups down and looked up at Rick's TV screen. The screen brightened as the chimes sounded three more times and Jill, the TV lady, appeared. She was smiling widely, and looked very happy.

"Hello, ladies!" she said. "I know you've had a wonderful time since I saw you last. Married just over a week and you've already had so many fun new experiences, to say nothing of the fulfilling status of having a wonderful man to please.

"Well, girls, we have a lot to cover today, so let's get started!! If you’ll please step to the cabinet one at a time and take out the items waiting for you."

It was a procedure that we'd gone through before. One by one we went to the cabinet. It opened, and one by one we took out a pretty little notebook with flower designs on the silk cover. We also removed a slender, expensive gold ball-point pen, one too thin for a man's hand but perfect for our dainty fingers!

The TV lady didn't speak again until we were all seated and looking at the screen.

"Aren’t they pretty? Each of you ladies will take notes as I read the reports from your husbands. As you and your husband get used to being married he will begin to open up more and more, telling you how to make his life happier. But married life is as new to him as it is to you, and we find that in the first couple weeks he may be a little shy about suggesting any changes in your behavior. So we have newly married men fill out a little report on you. I’m going to share one section of that report with you today!

"Now I want you all to move to the edge of the sofa and keep your heels against the front so your knees are nice and high. Tuck your dresses in the back of your knees or you’ll be showing more than you know!" She smiled at us. "You’re going to love this, girls!"

She looked down and we could see her upper arms move as if she was arranging papers.

I couldn’t imagine what the girl on the TV could possibly have to say. I knew how I was made to act around Peter and I’m sure the other guys were being made to do the same things. The whole transformation was set up so that our lives revolved around our husbands.

The reality was that the men had perfect lives. Everything we did, we did with the goal of making the men happy. We were beautiful, young and devoted. My hours in front of the mirror, the clothes we wore, and most especially our feminine mannerisms and our fawning attitudes were all designed to please men. And they sure couldn’t have any complaints about their sex lives!

Two weeks ago this would have been my fantasy life – just not on this side of the coin! It was tough for us, but what the men saw and got was a shy but gorgeous babe, who would eagerly do anything they wanted, and seem to get as much of a thrill out of it as they did. What else could they possibly want?

"Rita," the girl on the screen said. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Rick poise his pen over the little notebook on his stocking covered knees.

Without looking up the girl began to read. "Robert thinks you have beautiful skin and he says it looks even lovelier with your new tan, and he wants to be sure you maintain it. He also likes the way you look in long, dangling earrings, so make a point of wearing the longest you can find that are still appropriate for the outfit you have on. Though he has enjoyed the meals you’ve chosen from the food synthesizer his taste is more toward simpler meals. Obviously, when you have dinner guests this isn’t appropriate, but when the two of you are having a romantic dinner alone keep that in mind. He also said you have very sexy eyes."

She looked up from her papers and grinned at us. "We won’t tell them about our little make up tricks, will we ladies?"

She looked back down and began reading from her notes again. "He also says you have magnificent breasts, and that he would like you to come to bed one night in nothing but french cut white cotton panties. He would also occasionally like you to come to bed straight from your bath, barefoot and nude!

"Finally, he says that he really enjoys performing oral sex on you but would like you to be more vocal about what feels best. And he says he would like to enjoy 69 with you on occasion."

She grinned. "Well, nothing kinky, was there?! We find even with the reports that the men don’t open up completely, though I’m sure you’ll all pick up some very useful information that you’ll put into practice right away."

I wasn’t able to turn my head from the screen but in my peripheral vision I saw Rick smiling and nodding at the screen as he closed his notebook. The rest of us immediately also smiled and nodded. Poor Rick!

"Kathleen," the woman said. Kevin’s hand moved so his pen was ready to write in the notebook balanced on his knees. "Alex thinks you have a very pretty voice. He heard you singing in the shower and he would like you to learn to sing for him. He also said he liked your new hair style a lot but doesn’t like you to use too much hair spray."

She stopped and looked up at us. "You’ll run into this all the time, ladies. Men love the way our hair looks, especially long hair in a pretty 'do' like you have because it’s so feminine. But they don’t like what keeps it looking so nice all the time – spray! What is a girl to do? Well, the tip I can give you girls is that if you’re going out to another couple’s home for dinner or to a function, spray away. But if you’re in a situation where your man may be touching your hair – at home alone, for example – use as little as you can and still make yourself pretty."

She smiled at us and said, "A little tip for us girls!" before tilting her head down and resuming.

"Alex also says he would like you to wear some green stockings occasionally. He thinks you have great legs and that green stockings would go nicely with your hair. I agree, don’t you? Make sure to wear a matching panty and bra set! You never know when your guy might get the urge to undress you!"

Kevin was outside my vision but he must have nodded – I’m sure they wouldn’t have let him do anything else! – because the girl on the TV smiled at him and seemed to give a small return nod.

"Alex would also like you to wear an ankle bracelet. He thinks your slim ankles and tiny feet are very pretty. He also says when you have sexual intercourse he would always like you to take his wonderful penis and guide it into you! Finally, he says he really likes the cowgirl position for sex because you have very sensual hip movements. Wow!" The TV girl laughed lightly and looked up to smile at Kevin who, I’m sure, at that moment wished he could just crawl off somewhere and die! It was difficult enough to be made to do those dreadful things, but they wouldn’t let it go at that. They forced us to enjoy them! Then they added to that by making us listen to compliments on our skills in sexually satisfying another man!

"Diana," she said, resuming reading off her notes. My heart fluttered when she called my name, and my hand automatically brought the pen to the pad on my knees.

"Peter says though he really likes the hairstyle you have now, he’d like you to change it every now and then, just for variety. He says he wants to shower with you occasionally, that he thinks it would be romantic. He also loves the way you dance – and he’d like you to learn to do the strip tease for him!" She paused and looked up at me with a smile, "We can arrange that, Diana."

I didn’t want it arranged! But all I did was smile back and nod.

"Peter also says he’s a leg man and you have great legs, and he prefers any position for sex where he can see your legs or have them wrapped around him. He also likes to have the lights on when you make love so he can see your beautiful body! He thinks it would be exciting if one evening you went around the house topless! He’d like you to wear especially short dresses and skirts at home, and he thought the way you greeted him when he came home Monday was fantastic. He also says he appreciates the trouble you go to in always looking your best. He just wanted you to know that." She looked up at me and I felt our eyes lock together. "Isn’t that sweet!" she said with a grin. "Finally, he says that sex with you for the last two nights has been especially satisfying." Like an idiot I grinned back and nodded. Peter must have sensed that my behavior was voluntary for the last two days – and nights!

"Jennifer," she continued. Jack was sitting next to me and I sensed him come more alert and move his slender hand to his pretty note pad.

"Sam says he loves to watch you walk across a room, taking long strides, especially when you’re wearing boots or extremely high heels. He likes to see you in the special boots and heels you picked out at Sally's Shoes. He also likes the way you cuddle against him when he drives you shopping. And he likes the way you’ve rearranged the furniture in the front room and what you’ve done to the dining area. He says you have a great eye for interior design. My, isn’t he full of compliments! On the personal side he says he would enjoy it if you would talk dirty sometimes when you have sexual intercourse, and he would like you to shave..." She rolled her eyes up without moving her head and said, "...down there. I guess Sam likes a baldy!" We could see her grin, even with her head looking down at her notes.

Then she looked directly at Jack. "By the way, Jennifer, there’s a book at Betsy’s Book and Candles called ‘Experimenting In the Marriage Bed - Ideas Your Husband Might Love!’ I’m sure you’ll want to buy it! It has a whole chapter on really hot things to say while he’s pumping away!!" She laughed hardily.

Pumping away!? I’d never heard her use a phrase like that before! It was almost like a slip in her decorum. Maybe I was being overly anxious to find some kind of flaw, some out of place act or statement that would give me a hint that might lead to a way to escape the island. I was constantly watching for things like that, I know, and maybe I was making too much of this. But it did seem, at a minimum, that the girl on the TV had said something out of character. Either that or Mr. Lawson had already had someone make a change in the TV lady's personality.

"And finally – he says you’re getting very good at performing oral sex and he’s going to start letting you do that more often. He says you should lick..." She halted and giggled. "Well, I don’t know how to say this..." She looked directly at Jack and, without making a sound, mouthed, "...his balls – a little more often!"

I was stunned! Jack, my best friend, was getting good at performing oral sex on Sam! He'd only admitted that he'd done it, but now it sounded like he was pretty experienced!

The beautiful green-eyed brunette on the screen seemed to read for a moment more before she lifted her head and faced us again. "Each of you, one at a time, will now place your notebooks and pens into your purses."

It started at my end of the sofa. I got my purse from the coffee table, opened it and placed the items inside, then snapped it shut and put it back down. The other guys followed in order.

"Good!" she said with a smile. "You will have noticed that some of the men complimented their wives on their breasts, some on their legs, and so forth. Don’t feel that just because your husband didn’t mention your breasts, for example, that he doesn’t enjoy them. Each of you ladies has a great set! Your nipples are very sexy and responsive, and your breasts are full and firm. Every one of your husbands enjoys fondling and kissing your boobs – probably as much as you enjoy him doing it!

"One of reasons for the notes, ladies, is so you can read them later and voluntarily respond to your husband’s wishes. Of course the device will always be there if you don’t know what to do. There’s a lot for a newlywed to learn about being the best wife they can be, and sharing your experiences is one of the ways you’ll do that. I started you off, and you can all benefit from hearing what the other girl’s husbands want. Chances are your husband may want something similar! That’s why it’s so good to talk with each other about all the things you’ll learn from day to day. I’m sure you’re planning right now to be on the phone to each other even more often than you are already, sharing the details of these new experiences, and the insights you’re getting into pleasing your man – .and try not to talk just about sex, ladies!" She giggled appealingly. "There are other things, you know!"

I was already telling my buddies the humiliating things I was being made to do with another man! Now they were going to make me give even more details about intimate things! If I had needed any more incentive – and I didn't! – to escape Athernia, the reminder that there was always more to come was it!

It was difficult enough to be forced to live as a submissive girl twenty-four hours a day – to be made to tell our buddies about every single detail of our sex lives was just too much! We wanted to forget it, not relive it!

But reliving it, constantly throwing it in our faces, was exactly what the makers of the device were after. They wanted us thoroughly feminized!

So I knew for a fact that if I stayed I would be talking to Jack and Kevin and Rick every day, just like the TV lady said. I would tell them intimate sex things and they would tell me intimate things and we would laugh and giggle and oooh and aaah, all the while fighting a losing battle to stop ourselves from talking. No one would be around. Not the TV lady. Not the men. Not even other women on the island. But we would do it anyway, just as I found myself always looking in the mirror and fussing with my hair or freshening my make up when I was alone during the day. Nothing short of one hundred percent womanhood would make them happy! In fact it wasn't even womanhood. It was perpetual girlhood!

"Last week we talked about how you ladies were being given a wonderful opportunity to voluntarily embrace your new life!," the woman said. "I know you’re really giving that an honest effort! Some of you are making more progress than others but, believe me ladies, you’ll all find that the sooner you enthusiastically embrace your new life the happier you'll be!"

She paused, the smile frozen on her face for a moment, then resumed speaking. "You will have noticed when you heard your husband’s reports that there was a new theme that ran through them. That’s right! Variety! Men love variety in their wives. They hate surprises, unlike us girls who love a nice surprise! You know that from how delighted you’ve been each time I told you about something new!" She smiled in a disarming manner.

"Men love variety the way we love surprises! It keeps the marriage fresh. Even though you’re newlyweds and everything about you is new to your husbands – and new to you, too – " She winked at us. "When we combine voluntary acceptance with a need for variety we have a need for ...what? Right! Creativity!"

The woman on the screen took a shallow breath and seemed to blush slightly. Oh no! What now!

"I’m going to get personal again, ladies," she said. "I wouldn’t be caught dead saying this in mixed company, of course, but since its just us girls – It’s time to go into marital relations a little more, now that you’re getting used to being married. These are things your mothers should have taught you but never did." She stopped, smiled brightly and said, in her friendliest tone, "Just think of me as Mom! – As you know, your husbands were without women for years, so they were under some stress. The pent up sexual tension would have caused all kinds of problems, so their rings exerted more control. But now they have you, don’t they, girls! I don’t think repressed sexual tension will be a problem any more!" She grinned and winked at us.

"I’m sure your guys enjoyed many fantasies during their time as single men. How could they not? And I’m sure they thought of things that they would want their future wives to do – if they ever got a wife. Maybe even something – and now I’m going to blush – " And she did. "Something – kinky! Men are sometimes self-conscious about their sexual fantasies, so you have to probe and experiment and use your girlish charms to get them to open up. I won’t go into all of that! I’m sure it will all come naturally to you!" She winked at us. "Remember girls, you should always conduct yourselves as ladies – but in the privacy of the marital bedroom, anything goes! I’m sure you’ll enjoy it – whatever it is!"

I knew the other guys were as distressed as I was at that moment! Kinky? And we have to pull these kinky ideas out of them?! This whole thing is kinky to the max already! Again I was overwhelmed by the idea that we were going to be pushed to still one more level. One we hadn’t even thought about!

"Not to worry, ladies! When you don’t know what to do the device will make the right decisions for you. It’s there to help you achieve the goal of your life...to be the best wife a man could ever want! I know this is a little personal but it’s just between us girls, and you know how girls are when we get together! Before you know it we’re talking about sex, sex, and sex, and how wonderful our husband’s penises are." Her eyebrows jumped up and down a couple times in a playful wooo-wooo motion.

"Listen carefully, girls. As newlyweds you’ve probably been playing belly slap quite a bit," she said, "but soon his years of tension will be sated and he‘ll return to a more normal existence. You may feel hurt and want to cry the first night you go to bed and he doesn’t make love to you. Well don’t despair ladies! That’s perfectly okay, and as pretty and as alluring as you are, you can be assured it will be a very rare night indeed! It will happen occasionally, however, and you should know it's just part of the subconscious male quest for variety. It's why he doesn’t want to see you in the same nightie every night!"

I didn’t want to see me in a nightie any night!

"You know I’ve brought you nothing but good news in all our conversations," she said, the tone of her voice changing from cheery to neutral, "but this may be good time to remind you of something. During one of our very first talks you may remember that I mentioned a certain topic – your periods." It was the first time we’d ever seen her frown, though it was slight and quickly gone. It was only one of the many firsts I’d noticed about this session. Her vocabulary, especially when talking about sex, had become a little bolder, too. Belly slap? Where had that come from?

"You will have the normal menstrual cycle for your average 20-22 year old girl, beginning about 28 days after your transformation. That means it's coming up in about three weeks. To prepare you there’s a handy little booklet called ‘Your Period And You’ secreted under your panties at the back of your dresser drawer. You’ll be glad to know that when you have your little visitor you won’t be troubled with anything but a few light PMS cramps the day before, as a reminder to get ready. Your actual period, with a cramp or two and a light to moderate flow, will last for just a day or two and wont interfere with your life in any significant way! No irritability or any of that! Of course now that you’re married you can wear the insertable tampons! But enough about that unpleasant reality." She smiled widely, showing a beautiful set of pearly white teeth, and changed the subject.

"One of the many benefits of entering into the community of young marrieds here on Athernia is automatic membership in The Sixth Tuesday Dinner Club. Living on an island has some limitations, and this club was created to add that extra something to your frequent dinners with your new friends. The Sixth Tuesday Dinner Club only meets once every six weeks.

"There are dinners at only two homes, each with two couples. Now, there are thirty couples on the island so you can see that it will be a long time before any couple gets invited to a second dinner. That means it’s very exclusive, and that makes it special! The dinners are very formal and you get to really dress up! And the menu is selected for you, so whether you are the hosting couple or the visiting couple there’s no need to fuss over choosing exactly the right dishes! Each of you will have a turn at accepting the honor of attending one of the Sixth Tuesday Dinners! But understand that some couples have waited a long time for their names to come up, so only one of you will be invited to the next Club meeting. Another of you will be invited to each of the following three dinners. This lets you get into the social life of Athernia as fast as the infrequent scheduling allows. When your husband finally receives your invitation I know you’ll treat it as the special event that it is! It gives us all something to look forward to!"

She smiled brightly and continued. "But what really makes the Sixth Tuesday Dinner Club so special is that it was designed to add variety to the men's lives. After dinner, the men swap wives for the night! It takes a long time, but eventually your husband will get to enjoy a night with every other girl on the island! Isn't that special?! The men really seem to enjoy the variety, and of course you'll have the opportunity to please another man!"

They're going to swap us?!! Out! I am getting out of here as fast as I can!

"Another special dinner – this time attended by everyone on the island – is Mr. Lawson’s birthday party at Club Athernia. It's the highlight of the year! That’s also a formal dinner and a dance, but it’s not for eight more months so you needn’t concern your pretty heads with that right now.

"And our annual Halloween party is coming in a few months. You’ll love this! Traditionally it’s a costume party where everyone gets to dress up as a famous historic character! It’s so fun! And when you go to the costume shop in the village be sure to take a look in the back, behind the curtains. I won't get too specific, girls, but let’s just say your husbands will get a kick out of some of the things you’ll find. It’s up to you to figure out which ones he’ll like!

"Before I go I’m going to remind you of something. Pay close attention, ladies," she said. Her smile was barely on her lips and her voice lost a little of its playful tone. "Voluntary acceptance is a very important part of your husband’s happiness, and an equally important part of yours. Without it life will…..never get any more enjoyable than it is right now."

She suddenly brightened and her voice became the vivacious, friendly instrument that was so familiar to us. "But with some voluntary acceptance, mixed with a little creativity and variety, you’ll find out you can be the happiest girl in the world! Voluntary behavior isn’t something that the device will control, by definition, but if you misuse it in any way the device will make sure you stay within the rules. You might think of your voluntary life as free actions, rather like your free speech, with the same guidelines. Use it properly and you’ll have more of it!"

She smiled encouragingly and lifted her hand, wiggling her fingers, "That’s it! I’ll see you next time, ladies! Bye-bye!."

We sat there looking at the blank screen for a moment. As usual, we were unable to speak or move right away.

Some things the TV girl said were surprising. The new stuff, of course. But subtle things, too. In that one semi-serious moment near the end she had implied that she knew how difficult it was to have had our lives change so suddenly and so totally from being guys to being girls. She had never done that before.

And I got the impression voluntary acceptance must be even more important than she was saying, and she was saying it was very important. Was it critical? Vital? What would happen if we never accepted our lives beyond a few superficial voluntary gestures? I figured that after a period of time...weeks?….months? years? – that our minds would have to succumb to the repeated assault on whatever masculinity was left in our brains.

As usual, whenever I seemed to learn about a little chink in their plan, if that’s what it was, there wasn’t enough information for it to make any difference. I just ended up with more questions.

What was expected of us was also escalating faster. We were going to be made to share very detailed descriptions of our sex lives with our buddies, so we could all learn from each other! And now we were being told to charm our husbands into telling us their kinky sex fantasies so we could act them out! We were going to participate in a wife swapping dinner! And to top it all off we were going to begin our monthly menstrual cycles in a few weeks!

The minute we got off the island I was going to get the other girls rescued – or at least give them a choice!

The four of us sat primly in Rick's front room, looking in the general direction of the TV screen. We were gradually coming out of it. Our bodies were coming back under our control and we started moving our heads to look at each other.

"Wife swapping," Jack said under his breath, sounding like a girl making a catty comment.

"Periods!" Rick blurted.

"Kinky is new," I said. It was as neutral a statement as I could make it. I wanted to give the device the impression that I was accepting my new position, yet not give the guys that same impression.

"Kinky is..." Jack started. His voice faded.

"Creative? I don..." Rick said.

"Stick together beca..." Jack attempted.

Free speech apparently wasn't too broad this time. Neither one of them could seem to get anything negative out.

"Jill sure had a lot for us today," I said.

They all looked at me.

"Jill?" Kevin said. It was the first time he'd opened his mouth since the screen had faded.

"That's what Mr. Lawson told me her name was," I said.

"Have you met her?" he asked, a touch of awe in his voice.

"He said she's not real, just a composite of physical traits from a lot of different girls," I said.

"Not real?" Kevin said in wonder. The concept seemed to amaze him.

I shook my head.

No one said anything for a moment. I realized I had inadvertently switched the content of the free speech conversation from protests to something lighter.

"She'll come back next week, won't she?" Jack said.

"He didn't say, but I think she will," I said.

"With more," Jack said.

It wasn't a question. We all knew that Jill would bring news of something additional that we'd be expected to do.

"That's the problem," Rick said. "If they'd just leave it." He was nervously fiddling with the hem of his dress and not looking at me.

I realized we were all suddenly speaking in full sentences. What was going on?

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Well, a lot of it's not really all that bad," Rick said. "I don't want you to get the wrong idea but, you know, dressing up can be...okay."

"Okay?"

"Yeah. I mean, kind of fun...in a way."

"Oh, I'm so glad to hear you say that!" Kevin said. "I thought I was the only one!"

"Only one, what?" Jack asked.

"That thought it was fun to dress up," Kevin said. "I don' t want any of you to get the wrong idea, either, but I've been thinking a lot about this in the past week..."

"And?" I asked.

"Hey, logically, if we have to do something anyway, well why not just do it ourselves," Kevin said. "Like the TV lady, Jill, said, isn't it better to control our own actions? I think it is. We've just got to get used to it. I do wish they'd give us more time before they add something else. I agree with Rita on that. But what's so bad about putting on, like, you know, bra and panties? I mean, we do have tits! So wearing a bra makes a lot of sense. And if we're going to wear bras why not wear pretty ones? I like to look good just as much as the next person. I've been experimenting with my make-up a little – trying new looks, and everything – and it's kinda fun."

"You like it?" Jack asked.

"I do!"

"How 'bout the kissing?" Jack asked.

"It's not a big deal unless you make it a big deal," Kevin said. "It was difficult at first, but – well, think about it. Alex is very considerate, really. And you can't say he's not good looking!"

"He's a guy," Jack said.

"And I'm a girl," Kevin said. "We all are."

Jack turned to Rick, "And you, too?"

"The dressing up?" He looked down, a little embarrassed. "Yeah, kinda. It's pretty neat."

I could tell that we were all still in free speech, but not like any we'd ever experienced before! The way we were talking wasn't the frivolous girl talk that the rings made us engage in. But it wasn't the struggling protests, either. It was more like the four of us used to do when we sat around in a dorm room last semester. The guys were voicing their real thoughts! And even being allowed to say negative things for the very first time! The voices were still girl's voices, but the phrasing was more like we used to use.

"What about the sex?" Jack asked. There was something a little challenging in the way he said it.

No one spoke.

"Kathleen?" I prompted.

Kevin didn't say anything for a few moments. Then he looked directly at us.

"Do you come when you're having sex?" he asked.

"My body does," Jack said.

"Does it feel good?" Kevin asked.

Jack didn't say anything. It did feel good, very good, and we all knew it. It may have been the men who designed our bodies to be extra responsive and extra lascivious, but they were our bodies that experienced the feelings and not one of us would have said that being laid didn't feel awfully good. It just kind of grated that our passion was only there to please our men.

"It does," Kevin answered when Jack and I failed to respond. "The best I've ever felt. It's Alex who gives me those sensations. And he's a really nice guy. I admit that it's still pretty new to me and there are parts I feel... awkward...about. But he makes me feel good. And he loves me. I've got someone in my life who loves me. And I don't see what's so bad about that."

I couldn't believe it! What had happened to Kevin in the last week? He was always quiet and it was hard to know what he was thinking, but this surprised all of us! What happened to the idea that we were all in this together and had to stick together no matter what? We were going to resist! We were going to fight to the last – man.

"Rita?" Jack asked.

"The sex?" he said. "Well, I sure get off, I'll tell you that! But... I don't know. What the hell, it could be worse. I'm kinda getting used to it. Once you get into it and your body starts reacting... You know how it is. I've been thinking about it, too, just like Kathleen. We're girls. And we're married. It's kinda weird, but it's got its good points. So, yeah, we might as well enjoy it. But... It's all going too fast. If they'd just back off a little... Some things, like.... Hey, I don't want to have a period. You know what I mean?"

"What about you, Jennifer?" Kathleen asked, turning the tables.

Jack shifted in his seat. He seemed a little uncomfortable being put on the spot.

"Okay, look," Jack said. "I'll admit that I like to put on nylons and high heels. I do. Okay? I'll admit that. It's just kinda cool in some way. And my legs look great, even if I do say so myself! And the silky stuff and the lace feel pretty damn good! And I look good in a short dress. So do all of you. But that's a whole different thing. The sex? I can't get used to it. I just can't. My mind and my body – this body – are separate. It's – I dunno – Sure, Sam's a nice guy – but..." He shook his head, unable to further articulate his thoughts.

"Diana?" Kevin asked.

I knew it was coming and I had tried to prepare an answer. But I was so astounded by the extent of our free speech and the things the guys were saying that I was speechless at the moment! The device had allowed Jack to speak negatively! And none of us had said that it was all to please our husbands. We were being allowed to talk about how we felt about things! It stunned me! And Kevin! I think he liked being a girl! Even Rick! He was half way into it, too! Another week and –

"Diana?" Kevin said again.

I had come to Rick's house worried that my fake volunteerism might look like I had given in to the ring, and therefore might undermine my buddies' resistance. But Kevin and Rick – and even Jack in a way – had already gone further than I had!

"Like the three of you," I started, careful to create the right impression for the controller, "I've been thinking about it a lot. Two days ago I reached the same conclusion that Kevin did. It's not easy, but... Well, we're married now and we're going to be here for a very long time, so it doesn't make any sense to make ourselves miserable by not accepting reality."

Jack looked a little shocked at my words, and Rick's expression was neutral, but Kevin smiled and I'd swear he batted his lashes!

"I mean, what's the point?" I continued. "Should we get up in the morning and not want to put on a pretty dress? Not want to look our best?"

"Oh, and you have such good taste in dresses, Diana!" Rick gushed.

"Thank you, Rita! You've got an eye for color yourself!" I flipped back.

That was girl talk! Had our amazing session of free speech ended that abruptly?!

"And the figure for it!" Jack said. "Especially those great boobs!"

We all laughed. This was definitely pure girl talk again!

"Maybe you ought to get Peter to take some pin-up pictures of you, Diana," Rick said with a wink. "The topless ones, too!"

"But won't his gorgeous penis get stiff?" I said in mock shock, putting my fingers to my throat to emphasize my playfulness.

"You better believe it!" Rick laughed.

"If that's what happens I think I'll see if Alex wants to play photographer, too," Kevin said. "I don't know why, but I could just look at his stiff penis for hours! His hairy balls, too! Especially his hairy balls!"

"I know!" Jack said. "I like to look at Sam's naked butt, too. It's so manly! I keep wishing he'd keep turning around – penis, butt, penis, butt! Ohhhhhh!"

"What I really like is when Peter is stiff and he walks around the bedroom naked," I said, not having a clue where the thought was coming from. "His wonderful penis bounces up and down! Like it's waving to me!"

"From what we're saying," Kevin said, "all our fellas must be nicely hung!"

We all smiled and nodded agreement. Yep, our fellas were hung! Our fellas! Whew!

Well, at least penis talk seemed to be over!

"What's Peter's favorite position, Diana?" Rick asked.

Oh no!

"Any one where my legs are spread!" I joked. "Really though, I'd have to say with me on my back and my legs wrapped around him."

"When you do that," Kevin said, "try twisting to the side so you can get your hand down there, and play with his balls while he's fucking you, if you'll pardon my French. It drives Alex out of his mind!"

"Robert likes that, too!" Rick said. "But his favorite is probably doggy style. And it's easier to get back there and fondle his balls because you can reach between your legs."

"Good tip!" Kevin said.

Yeah, just great!

Now we've added ball talk!

"But really it's hard to say which is Robert's favorite because we try them all!" Rick added.

"It's easy with Alex," Kevin said. "You heard Jill read Alex's report. He likes me on top, in the cowgirl position. And is he ever a bucking bronco!"

"With Sam it's with him sitting on the edge of the bed and me on my knees between his legs!" Jack said.

It took a second for us to catch on, and then we all giggled wildly.

"A good tip for you for tonight, Diana!" Rick said.

"Thanks!" I said, smiling broadly, while wanting to crawl under the sofa.

We continued with the sex talk, but it became more general. All the guys had been keeping track of how many times they'd been laid since our wedding night and there was a little debate as to whether or not oral sex should be included in the totals. We finally decide it should be, if "the guys" had a climax, but not if it was just a preliminary to intercourse.

If we stayed on the island this would be what we'd do for the rest of our lives. I would spend my nights with my legs wrapped around a beefy guy. My buddies would be doing the same thing in their homes with their husbands. With the not so occasional knob job thrown in, of course! And then we'd get together and talk about it in detail!

And then there was the kinky stuff Jill had alluded to! And the "costumes" she'd mentioned casually! And the bit of variety for the men – wife swapping!

And what about anal sex? We hadn't heard about that yet. I suppose that would be on the menu for next week's TV gathering! That, and who knew what else?!

After the stimulating discussion about how many times we'd been laid, thankfully, we trailed off into conversations about clothing and make-up and hairdos and furniture and housekeeping. I noticed that we kept giving each other the benefit of our experiences, mostly in the form of little tips. Even when we weren't giving specific information, however, we were passing along the experiences of life as a girl.

Rick offered to refresh our coffees, but we all demurred.

"It's amazing how time flies," Jack said.

"It is!" Kevin said. "I've got to be getting along, girls. It's been a great meeting! How about my house next week?"

We all enthusiastically agreed.

Rick made little polite objections to us leaving so soon but we were obviously through with what the device had wanted to accomplish.

Robert pulled in as we were saying our goodbyes on the front steps. Rick broke away and rushed to him, of course. He threw his arms around Robert's neck and went up on one tip toe to kiss him. His other leg was bent at the knee. How many times had I seen girls do exactly that same thing?

We all said hello to Robert, smiling girlishly and maintaining the proper subservient role. He was magnanimous, saying he hoped he hadn't interrupted our little get together. We assured him that of course he hadn't! After all, he was a man and since we lived for our men how could anything they did be an interruption?!

Kevin, Jack and I waved to Rick and walked down the sidewalk, chatting about shopping.

After dropping Kevin off at his house, Jack and I continued.

"We have to go shopping tomorrow, Jennifer," I said.

"What a good idea, Diana! I'll ask Sam!"

"Good! There's something I really want to show you. It'll just be the two of us, okay?"

"Well, okay," Jack said. "Maybe we'll see some of the other girls there. I've gotten to know quite a few of them already!"

"So have I," I said, "and I've gotten some great tips on clothes!"

"Me, too! And shoes and boots and, oh, just all kinds of pretty things!"

"Then it's settled! I'll ask Peter and you ask Sam and I'll call you!" I said.

"Okay!"

We were at her sidewalk and stopped for a hug and an air kiss before she went inside.

I walked to my house, thinking about the get together we'd just left. The rings had let us be amazingly honest and I knew what I had heard had been my friend's true feelings. Those feelings were pretty surprising, especially Kevin and Rick's. Jack's and, I guess, even mine, weren't something I would have ever predicted either!

 

But wearing girls' clothing wasn't the issue. No matter how Kevin felt about our life, or even what Rick was thinking, the men of the island had changed us against out will, and it was clear that the position we were expected to occupy wasn't something I could handle.

My reaction was that if I ever had any hope of escaping Athernia it had to be quick! I didn't think I could trust Kevin with the idea. His acceptance of what they'd done to us astounded me! He wasn't all girl yet, but he was pretty far along! Even Rick was enjoying it!

I didn't have any doubt that by next week Rick would be as far gone as Kevin had been today. Maybe further!

And Jack! Man, even Jack was being affected! Telling us he sort of liked to dress up in stockings and high heels! And a dress!

Another week and I wouldn't recognize my best friend!

In another week would I recognize myself?

Peter and Sam had ridden to the lab with Robert, so Peter's car was still in the driveway, as was Sam's. I'd noticed that Peter had never used a key to start the car. In fact, I'd never seen a key or a locked door on the island.

I stopped at the car and opened the door. I must have still been under free behavior because nothing prevented me from getting behind the wheel.

There was nowhere to go, and I could hardly escape by driving. We were on a small island, after all. But I wanted to know if I would be allowed to drive. It was knowledge that might come in handy when I did make my move.

If I could start the engine and pull out, I could drive around and see the areas that we hadn't yet been taken to. There couldn't be a lot, because of the size of the island. Outside of the village and the housing area I'd only seen the small part of the beach where we had washed up and the part where the Pavilion was located. Was there anything helpful on the rest of the beach? Were there buildings or other things that it would help to know about?

But I couldn't for the life of me remember how to turn a car on! I remembered Peter sort of leaning forward and making a vague gesture with his outstretched arm, but I tried to repeat it and nothing happened. I knew it had to do with his right hand but I couldn't picture just where his hand was or what it was doing.

Finally I gave up.

I guess the rules of the island meant if a girl wanted to go anywhere she had to be driven by one of the men.

As I closed the car door I saw Jack come out of his house and head for Sam's car.

"Hi, Jennifer!" I called.

I startled him. He whirled and looked, his pretty dress swirling around his legs. First he looked at me, then at Peter's car, then back at me.

I shook my head no.

I could see his slender shoulders slump a little. He'd had the same idea.

"Hi, Diana," he called. "Wasn't it so fun to get together with the girls today?!"

"It sure was!" I called. "Well, I'll see you tomorrow! Shopping!!"

Jack laughed and headed back into his house.

That was so encouraging! Jack was still trying!

Not being able to drive didn't bother me. I had assumed, from our experiences, that only men drove so I wasn't surprised at not being able to start the car. But it had been worth the try.

Once inside, I put my purse on the coffee table and got a drink of water. Peter was due home shortly and I would have to face the touching, kissing and cuddling that was part of our togetherness.

I tried to get my mind to concentrate on making a plan to get off the island. It had to be something easy and quick. Debbie had given me the basis, but I wanted to be sure I was covering all the details. The men could hardly put us in a jail if we got caught, but I was very concerned that being caught would make them tighten the reins on us. From the look of Kevin, and even Rick, if we stayed here too much longer we probably wouldn't even want to escape! Tightened reins would do that, so I wanted the details right.

The problem was that I kept drifting off to thinking about tonight, and what I had been made to promise. I was going to give a guy a blow job! That was enough to muddle up my thinking! I couldn't put it aside! As critical as the escape plan was, the specter of that act keep overpowering my thoughts.

Me! I was going to go to bed with Peter. I would be wearing something adorable and sexy, like always. He would be nude, or nearly nude, like always. We would make out, hot and heavy, and go through all the preliminaries I knew only too well! The fondling of my breasts and the licking and sucking of my sensitive nipples! My stroking his strong, masculine body! Tongues, hands, naked thighs, all rubbing together. And I'd start to get hot and enjoy it! And his penis would swell and swell, and pretty soon it would be standing straight and hard.

Then instead of moving away from him and stretching out on my back, instead of moaning that I wanted him inside me, I would wiggle my cute little body down to his hips and take his stiff member in my dainty hands.

I would be made to say something sexy like, "Just lie there, darling, and let me pleasure you"!

Could I even get that far acting voluntarily, or would I have to let the device control me from the start?

The whole point of the last two days had been to establish the idea that I accepted the fact that I was a girl and I could therefore be trusted not to rebel. But they had to push the envelope!

I couldn't see myself holding a hard dick inches from my mouth and grinning at Peter. It would be sexy to lick my lips and wink at him, but could I do it? Jack and Kevin had survived it. If they could, I could!

But had they done it voluntarily? Not Jack, I was sure of that! Kevin? He sure was getting into the girl thing...

But what did they know about blow jobs? No more than I did. I'd been on the receiving end a few times with the girls I'd dated at school. One really got off on it, but we didn't date too long.

Then again, it wasn't rocket science! How much could there be to oral sex and making a guy come?!

I shook my head, as if to clear the thought away!

In a move that I hoped would get me thinking about something else, I went to the kitchen and got a cup of coffee. If there was one thing good about the island it was that the food synthesizer made great coffee!

Escape! A plan! That's what I had to try to concentrate on before Peter came home!

I took the coffee and walked over to the cabinet and lifted the door, having no idea why I was doing so. There was a book inside, with a card taped to the front.

"A Gift From Betsy's Books And Gifts!"

The title was "The Fun of Oral Sex, An Introduction for the New Bride!"

 

***********************

 

Peter was in the mood for some regular old everyday intercourse when he woke up the next morning. It seemed prosaic after last night. I almost welcomed the simplicity and familiarity of spreading my legs for a roll in the hay! Getting laid wasn't really all that bad an experience!

After he left I cleared the table. The dishes and leftovers went into the chute.

I had prepared the table and chosen breakfast while he was in the shower and getting dressed, so I had eaten wearing my nighty and nightgown, which was typical for days when we had morning sex.

Once I'd taken care of the dishes I took a long, hot bath.

One amazing thing about the island and the unceasing escalation of demands made on our new femininity was that all the things that passed before – sometimes just a day before! – were less shocking. Kissing another guy for the first time was shocking, but the next night I was on my honeymoon and getting my cherry popped! French kissing a man didn't seem like such a big deal then!

Dressing up as a girl was shocking. At least it was the first couple times. After that it was just distressing. Now it was almost routine! Truth to tell, some of the things were even becoming fun to wear!

The first time I had to put on make-up and lipstick I hated it! After more than a week of doing it I really wasn't bothered by it. Well, that wasn't one hundred per cent true. Putting on lipstick still bugged me!

But last night – !!

I tried. I really did.

Kissing his warm, stiff penis was tough to do. Licking it was even tougher! I never was able to bring myself to lick his balls!

Fortunately, Peter didn't need much extra stimulation. He was in full erection just from the caresses of my fingers on his rod, as he always was, and when I scooted down and kissed his belly I could tell he realized what I was going to attempt to do. That alone excited the hell out of him!

Putting the head of his penis into my mouth wasn't the big step I thought it would be. At least not for me. For Peter it was like the first step on the moon! His whole body shivered, and he moaned awfully loud!

Moving my lips up and down was what panicked me! The rest had been foreplay! It wasn't too much different from kissing another part of his body – lips, neck, chest. But encircling his member and sliding my lips up and down was a blow job! I couldn't pretend it was anything else!

I was tentative, moving very slowly, but it still panicked me! I was giving another guy a knob job!! Voluntarily!!

And the object was to get him to come inside my mouth!!!

When the reality got to be too much, I backed off. To cover myself I said, "I'm sorry I'm not experienced at this, honey."

"Oh, Diana! – .Oh, baby, you're doing great! Just keep it up, darling," Peter said.

"I'll get better with experience," I promised!

But I couldn't do it! I just couldn't! I did try, and I desperately wanted to go through with it on a voluntary basis! The more the device trusted me, the better chance I'd have of getting off the island.

So I tried. But it was too much! Moving my lips up and down, over the head and top part of his shaft, could only lead to one thing! And I just couldn't voluntarily make him reach a climax in my mouth!

The ring, of course, took over and the episode ended with Peter's complete and total satisfaction. I suppose to him it looked as if I was still behaving the same, but to me there was a very obvious point at which I said to myself, "I can't", and in the next moment found myself bouncing my head faster and with more enthusiasm! That wasn't me.

Knowing that I couldn't finish what I'd started, I let the ring take over.

After my morning bath I called Jack. I had asked about going shopping and Peter said he'd return at noon to drive us, after talking with Sam at the lab to be sure it was okay with him.

Jack sounded thrilled to get my call, and said that Sam had already phoned and told him to have a good time, also telling him that he would pick us up instead of Peter because Peter was involved in a project that would take most of the day.

I cleaned and straightened the house, changing the linens and doing odds and ends for a while.

I got into a see through bra and panty set, put on a garter belt and some really gorgeous pale brown stockings, and then started with my make-up and hair.

As I back brushed and teased my hair I tried to think about details. Rugged clothing would have been the most practical, but of course I didn't own anything that wasn't frilly, silky and feminine. They didn't have anything else in the stores!

Sneakers would have been best, and flats next best, but all I had was heels. I had tried to buy a pair of flats but somehow it had never happened. If we had to run for it I was going to kick off my heels and go barefoot!

There was no logical reason for me to take any food or water out of the house, and I figured if I tried the ring would send up a red flag. I didn't need that! Besides, the food and water was made on the island and nothing made here could leave. We'd have to try to catch rain water and fish!

I couldn't think of a way to justify taking anything, other than what was already expected to be in my purse. Unfortunately, none of it, not even the potentially handy little mirror in my compact, would be able to leave Athernia.

Maybe we'd die of thirst or starvation. It was possible. But I still thought that was better than staying on Athernia forever. I was almost positive Jack still felt that way, too.

Today, anyway.

I was ready on time. Sam came to the door and I greeted him happily and properly. Jack was waiting and I joined him in the front seat. Sam got behind the wheel and Jack cuddled up next to him.

We chatted about the stores on the way to the village area. I made a special point of talking about Francine's Fine Furniture, a store that neither of us had been to yet. It also happened to be the last store on the street, and the farthest from the main building and lab.

Jack caught on right away and started coyly asking Sam about "fixing up our house and maybe changing some furniture." He was amused and indulged her, as we knew he would. Guys are easy.

Sam parked in front of Francine's and came around to open the door for me. He returned for Jack, who kissed and hugged him goodbye and joked, "Don't forget us!"

Sam said either he would be back to pick us up before the stores closed. That gave us close to eight hours!

We watched him drive away before I turned to Jack.

"My husband says, it's now or never," I said.

Jack seemed shocked.

"But..."

"My husband says, think about it!" I said firmly.

"My...My husband wonders how?" he said.

"My husband says Mr. Lawson said nothing made on the island could leave," I said. "Peter says, our lifeboat wasn't made on the island."

He thought about it. "My husband thinks we'll die," he said.

"Peter says, no we won't!"

"Sam says, if we don't die, we'll still spend the rest of our lives as girls, no matter where we end up. Sam says, we might as well stay here, where we can have everything we want!"

I hadn't expected Jack to object to a chance of getting off the island. Surely he wanted out of this situation as much as I did!

"Peter says, but we won't have to have sex or be subservient little toys. Peter says, and we might change back."

Jack shook his head. "My husband says, there's no telling what kind of security they have."

"Peter says," I said, "why should they? Peter says, no one wants to get off, not even the 'girls'."

"Sam says, what about the rings?"

"Peter says, if we can't, we can't, but we won't know if we don't try. Peter says, I have an idea and if it doesn't work we can just turn back."

"Sam says our lifeboat's probably deflated by now," Jack said.

C'mon, Jack! Why are you fighting this?!

"Peter says, not our lifeboat. Peter says, the wooden one from the cruise ship. He says, it's still down at the beach by the Pavilion. Peter says, I remember seeing it after the wedding."

I think it was the mention of our weddings that did it because right then Jack's expression changed.

"Sam says, we'll be caught," he said, but it was without the fear that had been in his voice just a moment ago.

"Peter says, what can they do, put us in jail as punishment?"

He didn't say anything for a moment, then he looked around as if to make sure there was nobody in earshot.

"Sam says, let's try!"

I was very relieved. As easy as I had made it sound to Jack, there was still the very real danger that we'd die at sea before being seen by a ship or plane. Two of us would have a better chance, if for no other reason than we could keep each other going.

"Jennifer, I had a great idea last night!" I said.

Jack looked puzzled.

"Wouldn't it be just toooo romantic to take our husband's down to the beach at sunset and make love on a blanket, under the light of the moon!"

One of the things I always liked about Jack was that he caught on to things right away.

"Oh, Diana," he gushed, "what a wonderful idea! Sam's a real romantic, anyway. He'd love it!"

"I think Peter would, too!"

"But where on the beach?" he asked. "It would have to be a really nice place. Some sexy setting!"

"How about down by the Pavilion?" I suggested.

"Oh, that would be perfect? It would remind Sam of our wedding day! Let's go find the perfect spot!"

"Let's!" I said, and reached out for his hand.

Giggling all the way, we walked around the side of Francine's Fine Furniture and started through the jungle-like growth. As soon as we left the hard ground around the buildings we ran into difficulty walking in heels. It was an effort, but we plowed on.

We kept up the pretense while winding our way between the palm trees and underbrush. Both of us were keeping our eyes and ears open, but still keeping up the mindless chatter about the romance of the idea. We talked about wearing bikinis, and then about wearing dresses, and then about which was more practical and which one the men would like best.

Eventually we heard the ocean and reached an area where we had to walk up a sandy white dune. On the other side was the beach!

Jack and I grinned at each other.

"I think this tells us something, Jennifer," I said.

"What, Diana?"

"When we bring the guys down here we can't be wearing heels! We'd be too clumsy and lose all our graceful femininity!"

"Off with the heels!" Jack said with laugh, and we both stepped out of our shoes.

The sand was warm on our nylon covered feet but walking was a hundred times easier. We moved rapidly toward the Pavilion.

Driving may have only taken a minute on our wedding day, but walking took forever! Still watching and listening for anything that might indicate danger, we trudged on. All the while we kept up conversation about the romantic and sexy plans we were making for our husband's enjoyment. Jack had enough sense to bring up food and drinks, and we wore that topic out over the next half hour.

When the small clearing that led from the beach to the Pavilion appeared we were almost shocked. It came on us quickly, and at first it had looked like it was just a section where fewer trees were growing.

We slowed immediately. We didn't know of any functions or anything else that was scheduled for the Pavilion that afternoon. But then again, there was a lot we didn't know about the activities of Athernia.

Our raft turned out to be still inflated and in about as good a condition as it was when we had washed up on shore less than two weeks ago. But the wooden cruise ship lifeboat was obviously the more sea worthy. The flare guns, first aid kit, and a few other items were still inside. They were years old – we didn't know exactly how many – but they might still work.

We stood silently for a minute, listening for any activity. There was nothing.

"You know, Jennifer, I think our husbands would be really pleased by a short and romantic boat ride. What do you think?"

"Absolutely, Diana! Sam loves to go boating! I think it would make him very happy!"

"Do you think this would work?" I asked, indicating the small lifeboat.

"Well, I wouldn't want to disappoint him," Jack said. "Maybe we ought to try it out first."

"Good idea! We'll just go out a little way," I said.

"Okay! If it seems okay than we'll know our husbands will enjoy themselves!"

"Exactly! Why don't you grab that rope and I'll take this one, and we'll see if we can get it into the water."

"Sure, Diana!"

We tossed our purses in the lifeboat and each grabbed one of the ropes hanging from the bow.

I remember hearing that the cruise ship that sunk had been a small one, and as far as lifeboats went this boat was hardly large. But for two 115-pound girls it was as heavy as hell!

We struggled, dragging it slowly through the sand. It must have taken us at least twenty difficult minutes of concentrated pulling before we reached the hard, wet part of the beach. Ah, but what a joy it was to feel the sea lap at our little feet!

"You ladies should have asked for some help."

We jumped and turned. Mr. Lawson and four or five other men were coming toward us from the Pavilion!

"Edward. James," he said, and nodded toward us.

We were so terrified neither one of us could move or speak!

Two men came forward and took the ropes from our weak grip. They turned the lifeboat around and pulled it back toward the Pavilion.

 

 

********************

 

They separated us, taking Jack down one hallway and me down another. It was plain we were both under the control of the device because neither of us protested, resisted, or even spoke. I was escorted into our old familiar original quarters and left alone. As soon as the two men were gone I naturally got up and headed toward the door but wasn’t surprised when I found myself turning around and walking back toward the sofa.

On the outside I was calm and ladylike. Inside I was scared, of course, but not as scared as I thought I should be. The most horrible things in the world had already been done to us so I had little to fear in that area. I tried to think about it logically. The men – especially Mr. Lawson – valued the harmony of their little island more than anything. They also had possession of the device. Two and two make four, and that meant they were going to decide to increase the force of the device on my life. What I had to figure out was by how much, what freedom that would leave me, and for how long they would keep up the extra measure of control.

I was surprisingly confident inside. Trying to escape had, I think, given me a boost in the male ego department, something I’d been totally without for the last two weeks. I had taken a shot and lost. Okay, I could deal with that. I would take my medicine like a man! One day I’d get another chance. Maybe.

How long would I be under increased control? I couldn’t guess. My bet was that Mr. Lawson and the others were discussing that right now. All I could do was wait. I didn’t have much hope that they would let me plead my case. It was all in their hands, just at it had been from the second we washed up on shore.

I sat thinking about where we had gone wrong and how, if I ever got the chance again, I could avoid whatever mistake we’d made.

The door suddenly opened with a whooshing sound and I involuntarily stood up and turned toward it. The two men who had escorted me to the room were standing there.

"Come with us," one said.

I obediently followed them to the conference room.

Mr. Lawson was sitting at the head of the big mahogany conference table. Eight other men were there, including Peter and Sam. Just then Jack was brought in by two escorts. The device prevented us from even exchanging glances.

"We’re going to have a meeting in a few minutes to decide what to do about you two," Mr. Lawson said. He turned to Peter and Sam and added, "...and you two."

Peter and Sam simply stared at the table, completely cowed.

"There’s some sentiment for punishment," Mr. Lawson said. "Others feel that increasing the power of your rings will be sufficient. Everyone has different ideas. It’s very unsettled. You’ve caused a lot of instability in our community and people are upset. This has never happened before."

Though he spoke calmly I could tell there was a slight measure of stress behind his voice.

"In the meantime," he said, "the four of you will stay in separate rooms here in the main building. I – we – felt it was only fair to let you know what was happening."

That was an unseen signal because Jack turned with his escorts and left the room. I involuntarily followed, turning in the opposite direction. Behind me I could hear the footsteps of Peter and his escort and Sam and his.

I was taken back to the same room and left alone.

Punishing Peter and Sam had never occurred to me. I couldn’t figure out what they had done, unless Mr. Lawson or some of the others suspected they had somehow helped us in our escape attempt. How they could imagine that was beyond me. Both men wore rings, of course, and though they may have been weaker than ours I couldn’t imagine them being so weak that they would let the men participate in anything like what we had done. Besides, what could Lawson think would be their motive for helping us?

I suddenly felt starved and exhausted at the same time. The exertion and stress of the wild events I’d just been through were taking their toll.

I went to the food synthesizer and was pleased to find it was working. I had a quick sandwich and a soda and thought some more about the situation. No earth shaking revelations came to mind after half an hour so I went to bed.

****************

I awoke feeling completely refreshed. I had slept in the nude because there was no nightie in the drawer. In fact the entire bedroom compartment had been devoid of clothing, make-up, shoes, robe or anything else. That wasn’t the case when I awakened. The familiar white robe was at the foot of the bed and a full selection of cosmetics was on the vanity.

I showered, brushed my teeth and dressed in clothing that was virtually identical to what I had been wearing yesterday. The only difference being that it was brand new. After a quick pee I applied my make-up and fixed my hair.

Breakfast and hot coffee were ready for me at the food synthesizer and while I ate I thought about my plight. Other punishments came to mind in the light of morning and I became less relaxed about what the men might decide.

Increased control was a given. But I could also be separated from Jack, Kevin and Rick on the grounds that I might again lead one of them to do something like this. They might restrict me to the house all the time, never allowing me out.

Since they seemed to feel that Peter was somehow involved I could see them deciding that perhaps I would be better off married to one of the two remaining bachelors on Athernia. Making Jack and Sam be bachelors again would certainly be a punishment for them, though I wasn’t sure what Mr. Lawson had thought they’d done that needed punishing. That meant Jack would also be "divorced" and "remarried" to the other bachelor. I dreaded the thought of going through the process of the wedding night and living with another man, but in my mind I had to admit that it neatly solved the problem of what to do with the four of us. That would be just the kind of solution that would appeal to Mr. Lawson.

If they decided to go that far what would it mean to my future? I tried to think it through. Husband number two, whatever his name was, would be more alert to anything "disruptive" to Athernian tranquility. It would be tougher to plan another escape. Tougher, but not impossible –

The one thing I really did fear was that they could somehow erase me. I had quickly learned that no matter how terrible the last escalation of my feminization had been that there was always one more level. They had always said – and it had been true – that we would retain our memories and thoughts through the transition. But suppose that was an option. Mr. Lawson had said they erased the men’s memories of seeing Jack, Kevin, Rick and myself come ashore as four male college students. Lawson himself had erased his own memory of his wife having formerly been a guy. Apparently they could erase memories if they wanted to. They certainly had proved that the device could do just about anything. Could they – would they – erase my memories and thoughts? They didn’t want zombies, I was sure of that, and I believed that was why we retained our personality and identities inside. But had I pushed them too far?

I found myself involuntarily standing and going back to the bathroom area where I brushed the breakfast from my teeth and freshened my breath. Then I walked directly to the door leading into the hall. Astonishingly, it opened!

I turned and walked straight down the hall, unable to even attempt to turn away. I was completely alone and neither saw or heard anyone else in the hallway until I got to the door of the conference room. It opened and I walked in.

Mr. Lawson was alone. He got up and came around to my side of the table, pulled out a chair for me, and pushed it in a little when I was seated.

He moved to his chair and stood beside it. His pipe was next to the little clicker on the table in front of him.

"You’ve been asleep for five days, Diana," he said without preamble.

Five days! It seemed impossible! I showed no outward signs of surprise.

"A lot has happened in the last five days," he said. "We had a meeting to decide what to do. This was all under free discussion, and believe me when I tell you there were some who were very upset. More than a couple even wanted to have you terminated."

Yes! I hollered inside. I’ll take that over living here, like this, for the rest of my life!

"It was only the fact that that would have thrown our male/female balance off even more that this was quickly rejected. The clearer heads prevailed, as they always do here. In the end everyone was happy with our solution to the problem you created." He reached for his pipe and fingered it without making any attempt to light it. "The question was, what do we do with you? You – and Jennifer – are great disappointments to your husbands. More than you know. Just as their inability to control their wives was a great disappointment to the rest of us."

He moved around behind his chair, taking a moment as if he was rehearsing his words.

"This is what we came up with," he said. "Peter and Sam obviously couldn’t retain their status. They failed as husbands and as men. Perhaps they were single too long and it wasn’t entirely their fault. Nonetheless, for the well-being of the community we decided that they couldn’t stay in their current roles of responsibility."

I was right! They are going to divorce us and make Peter and Sam the single guys again!

"So we had them undergo a process that transformed them back into their original selves, and then undergo the transformation you went through. They became Pamela Anne Miller and Sally Jane Weaver," Mr. Lawson continued.

Girls! They made Peter and Sam into girls?! I was stunned. For a second I felt sorry for them, but quickly realized what the two of them had been doing to us. It served them right to have to experience what it was really like to be a girl on Athernia! See how they like spreading their legs every night!

"Their weddings to the two remaining bachelors, Ward Lewis and Stanley Cooper, took place this afternoon." He paused and reached into his pocket for a lighter. Slowly, he lit the pipe. A fresh cherry aroma faintly filled the room.

"They will have to be under heavy control, of course," Mr. Lawson said, his voice now sounding just a little bit tired. Or perhaps resigned. "Transformation, as you know, does not effect your memory, so they will remember being among the men of Athernia and working in the lab. They will never be permitted in this building again. Tonight – tonight will be their wedding night. It will be very different from their first wedding night two weeks ago."

He paused, perhaps to let me think about that. I did.

"Then there was the problem with you and Jennifer," he said. "We determined that you were the instigator but that Jennifer was also very guilty, at least as guilty as your ex-husbands, though not as responsible since she is only a woman. What to do? We reached the conclusion that the two of you must be punished so the other ladies see what happened to you and won’t be tempted to try to leave or otherwise upset their idyllic lives here on the island.

"Your ring, Diana, will exert a much stronger control over you. Free behavior will be curtailed sharply. You will still be allowed periods of free speech with your best friends, but with much tighter limits since you’ve proved we can not allow you as much freedom as the other ladies on Athernia."

It was logical and I was expecting it. What they’d done with Peter and Sam had shocked me but I couldn’t honestly say I was disturbed by it. All the men here were so full of themselves, with everything arranged perfectly for their dream existence, that it must have been a blow to their masculine egos to find out two of their own had been tricked, however slightly, by girls. That’s why they had come down so hard on Peter and Sam.

"Jennifer," Mr. Lawson continued, "was put through a reverse transformation, taking her back to being Jack Thomas, just as he arrived on our island. Then we began transforming him into one of the men of Athernia. For him it was a maturing process, going from twenty-two to thirty-three years old, and we made him an even six feet, two inches taller. He will have a much stronger ring than any of the other men, of course, so he will never be tempted to follow a disruptive suggestion from anyone. But then why should he, since he’ll be happily married to you."

I think I shut down completely! I heard the words but went blank. My brain just didn’t function for a moment and then the staggering words hit home! Jack! My best buddy! My husband!!

Through a fog I heard Mr. Lawson speak. "We’ve dispensed with the wedding, so you can consider tonight your wedding night. And to answer the question you want to ask, yes, he will know who you are and that you two are best friends. He’ll know – and you’ll know. But it will never be seen in the behavior or attitude of either of you. And of course since he is once again a man, though a slightly altered man, you and he will never share free speech again." He took a puff on his pipe and the cherry aroma filled the room. "It should make for an interesting sex life," he mused. "Every day you will thrill at being married to such a wonderful man. And every night you will eagerly dress in provocative lingerie and sexually arouse and then satisfy him completely. And be satisfied, I might add. That is what we have decided on for the two of you. We think it will also be an effective deterrent for the other ladies."

I felt myself involuntarily stand up and walk to the door. It opened automatically and I went through, heading for the stairs. My brain was still trying to survive the shock of what Mr. Lawson had said and was still half shut down. I was barely aware of the noise my heels made as I descended the stairs to the lobby.

Jack was waiting for me. A more mature, manly Jack than the college classmate that survived the plane crash with me, but there was no doubt who it was.

The device allowed a moment of stunned recognition as our eyes met. They say a drowning man’s life passes before his eyes in the moments before death. When Jack’s eyes met mine something close to the opposite happened. Our entire future – together – as man and wife – passed before us. In that fleeting moment of eye contact I knew how truly horrible their punishment was, and I knew that Jack knew it, too.

Then I grinned and tossed my hair off my forehead with a feminine flip of my head and ran to him, heels clicking on the marble floor. I threw my arms around him and kissed him deeply.

"I got some great things shopping, honey" I said. "Including a very sexy negligee. Would you like me to model it for you?"

Jack smiled in a deeply masculine way and said, "Let’s go home, darling."

 

The End

 

 

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